


The Thrilling Case of the Mysterious Five

by MiraclesofPaul



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Agent Ryan Bergara, Aliens, Alternate Universe, BFU typical dark humor, Bickering, Cults, Enemies to Lovers, Happy Ending, Implied Steven/Andrew, Jealousy, M/M, Roadtrip, Scientist Shane Madej, Sharing a Room, inspired by 3 Videos From the Pentagon's Secret UFO Program, slow realization of feelings, x-files au if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 57,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesofPaul/pseuds/MiraclesofPaul
Summary: Shane has spent the last two years arguing with Agent Bergara, a crazy conspiracy theorist and believer in the supernatural. When a woman goes missing, they hit the road to investigate The Five, a cult that chases UFOs around the country.OrAn X-Files AU if Mulder and Scully initially hated each other and constantly got into unprofessional arguments.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doradita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doradita/gifts).



> The biggest thank you to Tiia, who has patiently heard me whine about this story for half a year now. It would not have been possible without her constant feedback and encouragement.
> 
> [Crude-mood](https://crude-mood.tumblr.com) created the most amazing art for this fic!!! It's of the last chapter so it contains spoilers but [look how amazing it is!!!](https://crude-mood.tumblr.com/post/186989731968/these-boys-are-so-hard-to-draw-wtf-but-i-decided)

Perhaps foolishly, Shane had always assumed that if he _were_ to have an arch-enemy, it would be a fellow scientist. Maybe some evil microbiologist hellbent on destroying the world or something. Shane would be sympathetic to his plight, of course, but in the end he'd be sworn to take him down.

That would’ve been the ideal situation, at least. What Shane has instead is a jittery little conspiracy nut in the form of Agent Bergara, who has literally said the words, “There’s other science we don’t know about!”

Shane has spent the last two years being dragged to the Pentagon and occasionally even flown across the country to evaluate the authenticity of Bergara’s claims, and they’re always bullshit. Bergara stands there with his endless little folders full of crazy conspiracy theories and argues whenever Shane points out all of the hundreds of other things it could be other than aliens. It’s _exhausting_.

It has also resulted in several unprofessional arguments and trips to visit Nancy in HR. She was the one that suggested that Shane and Brent take turns whenever they get a call for a consult. It's Shane's turn when the call comes in today.

Brent makes a sympathetic face as Shane groans and starts to mentally prepare himself. Brent says, “He’s really not that bad, you know. He’s a good dude, just...a little out there.”

“Great, well if you think he’s so wonderful, you take this one then.”

“Ooh, darn, yeah, lots of work to catch up on, unfortunately. Just _so_ busy.” Brent grins, gleefully evil, and teases, “Plus, I couldn’t possibly deprive you of the joy of seeing your bestest friend in the world.”

“My ol’ pal, Agent Bergara!” Shane rolls his eyes as he gets up from his desk. “Can’t wait to see what nonsense he’s pulled out of his ass this time.”

“Have fun,” Brent calls after him.

Shane just flips him off as he heads out.

Shane is a man of science and logic. He considers himself to be level-headed and professional. But there is something about Bergara that makes Shane feel like he’s going insane. It’s just that Bergara is always so damn _sure_ about his stupid theories, completely committed to the most idiotic ideas he finds god knows where. It makes Shane see red. The crazy must be contagious, because more than a handful of times they’ve ended up in what some have described as screaming matches. Shane has thrown pens across the room in frustration, they’ll call each other petty names, and purposefully annoy each other.

Shane always ends up fuming for days afterwards. He can never stop thinking about Bergara’s dumb, smug face, _so incredibly wrong_ , and yet convinced he’s right. Shane will seethe as he thinks about what a huge waste of taxpayers’ money it is to have a branch of the government looking for little Tic Tac martians boiling the ocean, and he’ll think and think and think until it all builds up. Then the next time he’s in front of Bergara again, the cycle repeats itself.

And there he is, arms crossed, watching as Shane walks down the long hallway towards the entrance of the department. He’s wearing a suit like always, as if looking more professional will back up any of his stupid theories. Just seeing him look at Shane with his eyebrows raised in clear distaste makes Shane’s brain short-circuit.

When Shane is close enough to hear, Bergara says, “I was hoping they’d send Brent.”

“It’s just you and me, baby,” Shane says, knowing how much he hates that, and _yes_ , there it is!

Bergara scowls. “Don’t call me baby.”

Shane laughs as Bergara tightly turns and walks off. Shane follows.

Typically he takes Shane to an empty conference room to do one of his little power-point presentations that Shane then gets to tear to pieces, but not today. Shane frowns as they walk past their usual spots and instead take a left, down another hallway he’s never been in. He wonders if maybe Bergara is just doing this to throw him off balance or play some sort of weird power game. If that’s the case, then Shane won’t give him the satisfaction of even asking. He keeps his pace slow and unhurried, his long legs letting him not fall behind despite Bergara’s quick, determined strides.

Bergara finally stops in front of a plain, brown door. He gives Shane one last distrustful look before opening it and stepping inside.

Shane says flatly, “Wow,” as he looks around at the cramped...office? Closet that just got a desk and bookshelves shoved into it? There’s even a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, for god’s sake.

There’s something shiny in the middle of Bergara’s desk, but it’s not until Bergara quickly grabs it and crumples it up that Shane realizes it was supposed to be one of those tinfoil hats. Shane laughs as Bergara tosses it angrily in the trash.

He looks a little embarrassed, despite the frown he’s keeping up to try to hide it. “We have a lot of hilarious pranksters around here.”

Shane says, “It looked to be just your size,” making Bergara roll his eyes at him.

Shane grins and feels that victorious little jolt he gets from poking at Bergara, another tally mark for him in their endless battle of making each other miserable.

But Bergara doesn’t push back like normal. To Shane's disappointment, Bergara just sits down behind the desk and opens up a file. The only other chair in the room is the one a few feet next to Bergara, though there’s a bank box full of books on it. Bergara seems in no hurry to move it, so Shane places the box on the floor and scoots the chair right next to him, as close as he can.

He gives Shane an exasperated look. “You can sit on the other side.”

“But then I can't see what's inside the file.”

“You don’t – ” He stops himself. Takes a deep breath. “Fine. This is Johanna Miles’s file. She was in the Wharton State Forest in New Jersey with her boyfriend and some friends on May tenth. At twenty-two thirty-nine, she said she wanted to go on a walk, alone. That was the last time she was seen.”

“Did you make me come out here just because a girl is missing? Shouldn’t the FBI be the ones looking into that.”

“They have. There’s no body, no blood, no evidence of foul play. She just vanished. The cabin they were in has cameras on both entrances, giving everyone alibis. Her boyfriend and another friend went to look for her forty-three minutes later, but they were only gone for eleven minutes before they ran back, stating they'd seen a UFO.”

“So…” Shane makes sure he’s giving Bergara his best _you’re fucking insane_ face. “You’re saying…she got abducted by that UFO they claimed to see?”

“ _Obviously_. I work in the Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program, and I have her file.”

“And you just wanted me to come down here and tell you it’s a stupid theory?”

He rolls his eyes again. “I’m going to go interview the boyfriend, and Elizondo wants you to come with me.”

“Today? Are they gonna let us use the jet?”

Bergara glares at him and says, “Yes, today. And just so you know, I’m not playing your little game today.”

“So is that a no to the jet?”

“Let's go.”

The drive is three hours long, and Bergara is annoyingly silent for most of it, not rising to any of Shane’s jabs. Shane is trying his best not to yell something petulant and stupid like, _Stop ignoring me!_

If this is Bergara’s new strategy to annoy him, then boy oh boy is it working. The silence settles irritably under Shane’s skin. Their relationship has never been easy and certainly not pleasant, but it’s never been boring before. Shane does his best to ignore him back, but he mostly fails at it. His eyes always seem to wander back to him, taking in Bergara’s profile, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands seem to be gripping the wheel too tight. Bergara doesn’t even say anything when Shane fiddles with the radio and finds a station that exclusively plays polka music.

It feels like losing.

***

“Garrett Werner?” Bergara holds up his badge and shows it to the insanely tall guy who answers the door. He looks like he hasn’t slept in years, face pale with bruise-like circles under his eyes. “I’m Agent Bergara. This is Shane Madej.”

“ _Doctor_ Madej.”

“We spoke on the phone,” Bergara goes on, as if Shane hadn’t said anything.

“Right, yeah,” Garrett says. “Come in.”

The house is a mess. There are several stacks of mail and dirty dishes left carelessly everywhere. Almost half of the already small couch is taken up by a big pile of laundry, forcing Shane and Bergara to sit rather close together while Garrett sits in an adjacent chair.

Shane can admit that Bergara is actually really good at this part of the job, though perhaps that is also why he lets himself be swayed by all of it. Bergara’s brow is slightly furrowed in concentration as he listens to Garrett lay out the details of the case. It’s obvious he’s had to tell this story over and over again with other agents, automatically giving names and times and locations. Bergara gives little nods and _hmm_ ’s as he takes notes.

“It made no sound. I just happened to look up, and there it was. I quickly pointed up so that Eli would look too.”

Bergara says, “Can you please describe what it looked like?”

Garrett looks lost in thought, eyes slightly unfocused as he stares at a spot above Shane’s head. He runs a hand through his hair and says, “I know this is going to sound stupid, but it almost looked like in the movies. It was a disk with blueish lights around the bottom. It was pretty high up so I don’t really know what the size of it was, but it didn’t look that big.”

“How did you and your friend feel when you saw it? Were there any particular emotions you remember?”

“Scared. Shocked.” Garrett shrugs. “I couldn’t stop looking at it. It hovered over us for like, ten seconds, maybe. Then it was suddenly gone. I almost pissed myself.”

Bergara writes something down, but when Shane leans over to see, Bergara quickly moves the notebook away. He shoots Shane a warning look before turning back to Garrett. “That’s when you two ran back to the cabin?”

“Yeah. No one really believed us though and neither did the police. I know it sounds insane. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it either. Hell, if it wasn’t for Eli seeing it too, I would’ve thought that I was just hallucinating or something. But Johanna, she – she always said she thought there was life out there. She was always staring at the stars, always liked watching things with aliens in it.” Garrett looks down at this hands with such a hopeless look on his face that Shane feels bad for the poor guy.

“Can you please tell us about the people that came to see her? The week before the accident?”

Shane frowns, head quickly turning to look at Bergara. He hadn’t mentioned any other people being involved in this.

Garrett shakes his head. “It’s like I told the other officers, I really don’t know who they were. She wouldn’t really tell me anything. I came home and there was a blue van parked in the driveway that I didn’t recognize. When I went inside the house, there were five people in the living room. Um, it was two guys and three women. Johanna said that they were old friends that had dropped by but that they were leaving. She didn’t even tell me their names or introduced us. It was really weird.” His eyes fill with tears and he swallows hard. Shane looks away. “It was obvious that she was hiding something, but she seemed upset and I didn’t want to push. God, if I had just asked...” He wipes away the tears at the corners of his eyes. “But I didn't, so.”

Bergara gives him a sympathetic look before continuing, “Do you think you would be able to recognize them in a photograph?”

“I think so.”

Bergara pulls out a photograph that had been tucked in the back of his notebook and passes it to Garrett. Garrett’s eyes scan the photo carefully before he looks back at Bergara and nods. He hands back the photograph.

“That’s them.”

Shane only catches a quick look at it before Bergara puts the photo back, a blur of people sitting around a table, none of them facing the camera.

Shane stays quiet for the rest of the interview. With Garrett looking so distraught, Shane forces himself to wait until after they say their goodbyes and are once again in the safety of the car to say, “So this is a cult thing.”

Bergara shoots him a glare as he sticks the car key into the ignition. “It’s not that simple.”

“She’s probably with those people, and they staged the little event in the woods to create confusion.”

“Okay, first of all, we’re not living in the Scooby-Doo universe. How could they stage a UFO? What, you think they have some working Hollywood spaceship available to them that they can whip out?”

Shane shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe like projectors or something? It makes more sense than aliens kidnapping someone.”

“ _Second of all_ , the FBI has been tracking them. She’s not with them. When they brought them in for questioning, they insisted they knew nothing about her location but then asked whether anyone had seen a UFO.”

“Yeah, sounds to me like they definitely _did_ have something to do with staging the UFO then.”

“They’d already left town by then, _and_ there’s security footage of them that proves it. It wasn’t them, but they do know something.”

Shane scrunches up his face, doubtful. “I still think a cult abducting her makes more sense than aliens.”

“Good god, you're _exhausting_!” Bergara groans, finally breaking out of that professional mode and glaring at Shane. “Just admit it, admit that you believed him. You got all quiet in there, didn’t challenge anything Garrett said.”

“He was crying! I wasn’t going to be an asshole and tell him that she’s probably dead in a ditch or locked up in a basement somewhere.”

“So you think he’s lying then about the UFO?”

“He could be. Or he could just be wrong! Maybe they were smoking a bunch of doobies in the cabin or taking acid or something. We just don’t know.”

“Oh my god, I just – you kill every single ounce of joy in me. Why can’t you just admit that maybe someone is telling the truth?”

“He can be telling what he _thinks_ is the truth and still be wrong. Just like you. You always think you’re right when you’re not.”

“No, _you_ always think you’re right!” Bergara all but yells.

 _Finally_ , Shane thinks as they continue arguing as Bergara drives. He can feel his blood rushing through his veins as the argument twists around the usual things: the probability that aliens have visited Earth, conspiracy theories, and ghosts. He’s so lost in their petty argument that he’s surprised when Bergara pulls into a McDonalds.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m starving, and we still have an hour left before we’re back in D.C.,” Bergara says, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Stay in the car if you want – I don’t give a shit.”

Bergara’s car door slams behind him, leaving Shane to scramble to catch up.

Shane knows they probably look ridiculous, two grown men eating and fighting about the scientific validity of “spirit boxes,” but proving Bergara wrong has always taken priority over everything else. Shane is not too proud to raise his voice in a McDonalds, though he’s saved from it coming to that when they get to their usual impasse of Bergara saying, “We’re just never going to agree on this!”

“I don’t see why AATIP even bothers bringing us in if you never listen. Like for this case, why am I even here?”

Bergara pops a whole chicken nugget into his mouth and chews infuriatingly slow, taking his sweet time before swallowing and answering, “I’m going to investigate the case. I think the people that came to see her have answers that nobody at the FBI bothered to ask.”

“Still don’t see how I factor into this. You already knew I was going to tell you your alien theory is dumb.”

Bergara takes a deep breath and seems to hold it in, looking like it pains him to have to say it. “Elizondo wants someone from your department with me on it. He’s worried I’m – ”

“Batshit crazy? Yeah, I’ve been telling them that for years.”

“ _That_ _I’m stretching the case_ , and that it’s not warranted. Look, just tell Elizondo that Garrett is credibly – which you know he is – and then Brent can come with me.”

“ _Brent_? Why would Brent go?”

Bergara gives him a look like he’s an idiot. “Because otherwise _you_ would have to go with me. This investigation could take weeks. We’d kill each other.”

“Brent’s busy,” Shane says, which is true. Technically. Shane is busy too, but… Look, someone has to stop Bergara, alright? And no one’s going to do it better than Shane. Really, his hands are tied here. “I’ll do it.”

***

Here’s the thing: Shane is very much aware that this is a bad idea. He knows it as he stubbornly refuses to pack a suit like he knows Bergara will wear, opting instead for breathable fabrics for the summer heat. He knows it as he calls up the head of his department to tell her he’s accompanying Agent Bergara on an investigation and gets a five second long silence on the line, followed by a confused sounding, “Well, if you’re sure about that…” He knows it when he texts Brent to tell him and gets a row of coffin emojis.

And listen, Shane did not sacrifice his twenties getting a PhD just to run around looking for imaginary aliens. He knows that. He’s currently got a pretty cushy gig where he gets to oversee experiments and develop theories, with the inconvenient catch of occasionally assisting the Pentagon when they need an expert. Bergara has been nothing but a pebble in his otherwise very comfortable shoes.

Still, he goes to bed early that night. He tosses and turns for an hour, that restless energy that Bergara always leaves behind running through him. It’s a bad idea for him to be going.

But in the secret shame drawer of Shane’s brain, he knows that he couldn’t have let Brent take his place. Bergara is _Shane’s_ burden to bear. He’s like a light that pulls Shane in and burns him every single damn time, and yet he couldn’t say no even if he tried. Shane wants to be right there pushing every single one of his buttons, wants to be the one that gets to prove him wrong.

And so it’s with a rather embarrassing sense of excitement that he wakes up the next morning and plunges forward, ignoring every rational thought that tries to warn him.

***

Bergara picks him up early in the morning. His eyes are bright despite clearly having gotten little sleep, hands jittery on the wheel as they head for West Virginia. He always gets like this when they head off on a case. He’s insufferable enough when they’re at the Pentagon and he’s trying to convince Shane that aliens are getting up to some mischief here on Earth, but there’s a special level of excited he gets when they are out on the field.

“They’re called The Five,” Bergara says, glancing away from the road to make sure Shane is paying attention. It’s obvious that he’s trying to suppress how excited he is to be talking about this.

Shane tries to look bored as Bergara runs through their file. Andrew Ilnyckyj. Maya Murillo. Jen Ruggirello. Steven Lim. Daysha Edewi. They all grew up in different parts of the country. The only connection they can find between them is that they are all either orphans or their parents are out of the picture. Some grew up with relatives, others foster care. There is no record of them knowing each other until suddenly they pop up as a group in Arizona, as shown in a photo of them posted on a long abandoned MySpace page for Maya.

Johanna Miles was with them then.

By the same time next year, all traces of them online basically vanish. They become nomadic, going from place to place in a blue van, maintaining little to no contact with their remaining relatives. Johanna popped back onto the grid roughly three years ago in New Jersey, but the rest have continued driving across the country. She was already off living a normal life with her boyfriend when the group started to pique people’s interest online.

“There’s several theories about them,” Bergara says, giving Shane another excited glance.

“Is one of the theories that they’re aliens? Because I think we can skip that one.”

“For the hundredth time, it is my literal job to look for evidence of aliens. The _government_ is paying me – and you – to do this.”

“Yeah, but it’s bullshit. The government wastes a lot of money on useless things. Like the food pyramid.”

“What? What does that have to do with – oh my god, we are getting off topic _again_. The point is that whenever there’s a UFO sighting in towns all across the U.S., The Five tend to show up like clockwork. Some people think they’re just normal alien chasers – ”

Shane scoffs. “Yeah, that’s normal.”

“ _Others_ think that maybe they’re guiding the aliens to that specific place. There’s a lot of boards and forums that try to document all of the places they go and try to find correlations. There’s a lot of anecdotes online about them too.”

“And you spend a lot of time on them, I’m guessing? Is that where my tax dollars go?”

“Yes. I specifically ask the IRS to send me all of the money collected from your taxes.”

Shane feels the corner of his mouth twitch with the urge to laugh and quickly suppressed it. “Fitting. You remember the food pyramid, though? Just a bunch of fake bullshit that the government put all over elementary schools and – ”

“Oh my god, we get it! You hate ‘The Man.’ Dr. Do-crimes Madej – _we know_.”

***

In what must surely be a sign of the oncoming apocalypse, they manage to get to their motel that afternoon having had only a sprinkle of petty fights the entire trip. Shane had expected much worse.

The town, from what little Shane saw as they drove through it, seems to be on the smaller side, though it has a bit of charm. The motel is also not the worst. It’s clean, which is more than he can say about the time Bergara dragged them to Florida.

They’re arguing about where to have dinner when Bergara’s phone starts ringing.

The look on his face as he sees who is calling is one Shane hasn’t ever seen before. It’s soft and open, not at all like the usual glare that Shane is used to receiving from him.

“Just pick whatever,” Bergara says as he hurries towards the door, phone still ringing in his hand.

Shane waits exactly ten seconds after the door closes to sneak over to the window and peek out from behind the curtain. Bergara’s standing in the middle of the parking lot as he talks on the phone. He kicks at some pebbles, shoulders slightly caved in. Seems like a personal call.

Brent once mentioned that Bergara’s ex-girlfriend is a well known photographer. Maybe he’s got a new girlfriend.

 _Who would date that whackjob?_ Shane thinks as he forces himself to walk away from the window.

Pizza it is then.

***

“So,” Shane says, as they’re sharing a booth in a pizzeria. “Tell me about yourself, or whatever.”

Bergara raises an unimpressed eyebrow. It’s the kind of look Shane is used to getting from him, and he doesn’t back down. He just gives him an expectant look and waits for him to break first.

“What are you doing?” Bergara says.

“I’m making small talk. We’re gonna be road buddies for weeks, right? Great time to get to know each other, share our feelings.”

“We don’t have to be friends.”

“You got a girlfriend?” When Bergara doesn’t answer, Shane tries, “Boyfriend? Special someone who keeps you up at night and that’s why you got those dark circles under your eyes?”

“I don’t sleep well,” Bergara says, annoyed.

“That can explain a lot, actually. Sleep deprivation does a lot of funny things to the brain. And now that I think about it, yeah, that time we roomed together in Wyoming you woke up me like three times from all your moving around.”

“That time it was just because you snore.”

“You were just mad that your alien steel turned out to be gallium.”

“No, you snore like a monster. I brought earplugs with me.”

“I don’t snore,” Shane says, even though he does sometimes. He takes a sip of his water and enjoys the way Bergara looks like he’s planning on murdering him in his sleep.

Bergara says, “I can just record you to prove it.”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy.”

“It’s for science.”

“And since when have you cared about science?”

Bergara looks like he’s about to bite back with another retort when they’re interrupted by the arrival of their pizza. Shane hadn’t quite realized how much they were both leaning over the table. It's not until he sits completely upright again that he notices the way his brain has that fuzzy feeling, the way it often does around Bergara.

“Thank you,” Bergara tells their waitress, offering up a smile which she gladly returns, suddenly looking flustered.

Shane’s stomach twists with annoyance. That poor girl has no idea who she’s really smiling at. If only she knew the amount of batshit theories Shane has had to listen to from this man.

Although, as much as it pains Shane to admit this, Bergara’s not exactly _ugly_. One might even say he’s good looking. The waitress certainly seems to think so. She’s behind the cash register now, giving him not at all subtle glances.

Bergara says, “I can’t believe you got pineapple on your half. It should be a crime.”

Shane just takes a huge bite and goes “Mmmmm!” and doesn’t admit that he mostly just got it to annoy him.

***

They spend the next two days interviewing people. Bergara must’ve spent quite a bit of time prepping for this. He’s got a list full of people, each one already spoken to on the phone and awaiting their visit. Shane doesn’t know how Bergara found them, and he refuses to ask since he thinks Bergara would probably enjoy talking about his detective work.

They talk to a restaurant manager that hired two of them, a woman who rented out her basement apartment to them, a high school teacher who had one of them help her out in her garden project, and so on and so on. They all basically say the same thing: they kept to themselves, caused no real trouble, friendly enough, but something felt strange about them. They suddenly left one day, told no one where.

As far as Shane can tell, none of the information is new, and so much of it is incredibly boring. No one in this town has gone missing. It doesn’t seem like they stole anything. No one died, no one got hurt, nothing interesting at all happened. Where’s the pizzazz? Bergara, though, acts like each detail is vital, jotting down constant notes in his notebook that Shane is not allowed to see.

Shane has only gotten to read the official electronic file that Bergara e-mailed him. It's full of dry reports from bored sounding FBI agents and a smattering of clandestinely taken photos. Is it strange that they all have black triangle tattoos on their wrists and drive around the country looking for aliens? Sure, but cults are a dime a dozen in America. Even the alien angle isn't new.Shane doesn't quite get what all the fuss is about. Aside from the possible kidnapping, they don't really seem to do much.

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Shane asks as they’re walking back to their car. He feels tired and bored from having done nothing all day but listen to these interviews. “They’re not even here anymore, and these people don’t seem to know anything.”

Bergara says darkly, “They _would’ve_ been here if Elizondo had approved this case when I first proposed it two weeks ago.”

“I just don’t know what you’re getting out of this. We don’t even know where they are, and we– ”

“Oh I know where they are,” Bergara says before getting into the driver’s seat.

Shane feels frozen for a second, a confused frown on his face, before quickly getting in on the other side. “You’ve known this whole time?”

“Yeah. Well, in a general sense. They’re making their way south right now. Haven’t settled in any town yet. I told you, the FBI is keeping an eye on them, and I have a couple of sources of my own.”

“You read their blog or something?”

That gets at least an eye roll. “ _No_ , but other people are aware of them too. I told you this already. You don’t listen.”

“I listen,” Shane counters, because he really does. That’s the problem, actually. He listens and knows just how insane most of what Bergara is saying is.

“Well if you listened,” Bergara says, turning the key to start the car, “then you’d know that they only settle in places that have recently had UFO sightings and since we haven’t been alerted of any sightings, then it looks like they’re just wandering around for now. And we can either awkwardly trail after them or use this time to try and gather up any clues we can find.”

“Hmm, I see, I see. Almost sounds logical when you put it like, ignoring the fact that we’re talking about alien sightings and kidnapping cults.”

“Is it really that hard to believe that maybe they really do know something? That maybe, just maybe, these five people – six, including Johanna – might actually have knowledge that most people don’t?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty hard considering that that’s exactly what crazy cults like Heaven's Gate and all of the other ones claim. And you’d know that if you could tell truth from fiction.”

“Just because I come at things with an open mind doesn’t mean that I can’t discern what the actual truth is.”

Shane scrunches up his face in mock concern and says, “I think it does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I think it does, Bergara.”

Bergara makes an exasperated sound as he puts the car in drive. “It doesn’t.”

***

“They were such lovely girls,” Mr. Jones tells them on their fourth day in town. He’s their last interview of the day, and honestly, Shane is ready to just get it over with and grab dinner. “They’d come over sometimes and have some nice little chats with me. They’re not like the other people in this town.”

“How were they different?” Bergara asks, pen poised over his notebook.

“They believed me. Simple as that. Nobody else in this town does.”

Shane narrows his eyes at Bergara, who purposefully keeps his eyes on Mr. Jones. So far every person they’ve interviewed seemed honest enough, but it looks like Bergara is hell bent on tainting this investigation.

“What did they believe you about, Mr. Jones?” Shane asks.

Bergara starts to say, “If you don’t feel comfortable answering that – ”

“No, no, I’m happy to say it. Just like I told you on the phone, I saw a UFO almost forty years ago, and then I saw it again around the end of May. The girls came over, asked me questions. They understood.”

“Oh I see,” Shane says, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch he’s sharing with Bergara.

“Did they share any personal experiences of their own?” Bergara asks, shooting Shane a dirty look before returning his attention to Mr. Jones.

“Not really. They just said they believed in aliens too, which was very heartwarming to hear. I told them what I saw – not just once in my life, but twice! The tongues of this town can wag all they want, but I know what I saw. It was just like in the movies. A flying saucer with lights.” He chuckles to himself before adding, “I thought I had walked onto the set of _The Twilight Zone_!”

“I’m so sorry if this is out of line,” Shane says, ignoring Bergara’s glare, “but when you saw the UFO, were you alone? What were you doing that night?”

“I was alone both times. Mighty bad luck, let me tell ya. When I came running back home, no one believed me. I do admit I had quite the fanciful imagination as child, but I wouldn’t lie about that. And I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t on any drugs. Never taken any drugs in my life.”

“We weren’t implying that, Mr. Jones,” Bergara quickly jumps in, giving him a genuinely kind look, like he wants to make sure that Mr. Jones is believed and not being made fun of. “I think what my...partner here was doing was just trying to make sure that we get all of the details.”

“No, I fully get it. I understand. Details are key. I read a lot of things online and certain things have been revealed to me because I ask for details.”

Bergara leans forward. “Could you please tell us about those things?”

“Well… I don’t know if you two have heard of the Mothman?”

Shane can’t help it; a giggle escapes him, and he quickly covers his mouth with his hands. “I’m sorry, sorry, I was just taken by surprise. Mothman, you say?”

“Yes.” Mr. Jones nods, completely serious. “He and Bigfoot are part of the same league. They’re in it together.”

“Yes they are,” Shane says and resists the urge to laugh again as Bergara brings a hand up to his face and rubs at his temples.

***

“I liked that guy,” Shane says before taking a sip of water.

They’re at the same little restaurant that they’ve been eating dinner in for the past few days, saving them from living off of fast food by offering actual meals. Shane is surprised by how much he genuinely like this place. The woman that runs it always seems glad to see them, and she gave them free pie yesterday. He also likes the way Bergara’s face makes that annoyed, pinched expression as he stabs at his salad.

Bergara says stubbornly, “Just because he believes in some cryptids doesn’t mean he didn’t see a UFO.”

“Right. He saw a UFO twice _and_ Bigfoot and Mothman just happen to be married.”

“He didn’t say he thought they were married!”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry – _I’m_ the one saying ridiculous things here. Alright.”

Bergara rolls his eyes. “Clearly there’s no such thing as Bigfoot, but maybe Mothman – ”

“Bigfoot is the one you find ridiculous? He's the only one who has a chance at being real.”

“ _You_ believe in Bigfoot?”

Shane crosses his arms. Bergara’s looking at him with wide eyes, like Shane has suddenly grown three grotesque heads. “He’s meat and bone. Nothing supernatural about him – just something we maybe haven’t had a chance to study yet.”

Seconds tick by with Bergara looking at him, mouth open, and then suddenly he laughs, loud and his whole body practically shaking with it. “Oh god,” Bergara says, gasping for breath. “You’re serious!”

“Yes, I’m serious! How is Mothman the more reasonable choice here?”

Bergara just keeps laughing. _He looks so different like this_ , Shane thinks. He’s never seen him actually enjoy himself. Shane should be angry that he’s being laughed at, but he can’t really find it in himself to be.

Still, to keep up appearances, he scowls at him. “Are you done? It’s not that funny.”

“It really is,” Bergara says, wiping away a tear, still grinning. “You believe in aliens in the most boring way possible, you don’t believe in ghosts, you’re always giving me shit about it, but fucking Sasquatch is your guy? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“New species are discovered all the time!”

“Is it a height thing? Do tall boys have to stick together?”

“We can’t know – ”

He’s interrupted by Bergara’s phone going off. Bergara pulls it out and doesn’t bother excusing himself, just gets up and heads for the door.

Shane watches him go. This happens at least once every day, and yesterday, when Shane decided to follow him out, he heard Bergara say, “I will. Love you too,” before hanging up. He’d acted weird and suspicious when he saw that Shane was there, almost embarrassed.

Shane still hasn’t figured out why Bergara is even bothering to keep his girlfriend a secret. It’s not like Shane would make fun of him for having someone. Shane hasn’t even been out on a date in the last two years. If anything, there’s a jealous sting in his chest at the thought of Ryan Bergara having someone back home, despite being insane, and Shane spending his Saturday nights alone on the couch watching movies ‘til he falls asleep around ten.

“You guys ready for the check?” their waitress asks him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, please.”

“You’re the detectives in town, right? Everyone’s been talking about you.”

“Well, I’m really more of a research scientist. He’s the one that’s a detective, sort of.”

She seems to hesitate for a second but then still adds, “Are you two...together? Dating, I mean?”

“Us?” The question is so unexpected that Shane feels like his brain is short circuiting. “Me and him? _Us_?”

She instantly looks embarrassed. “Sorry, that’s just a rumor that’s going around town. People say you fight like an old married couple, and after seeing you together I thought – ” She shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, it’s all a bunch of gossip. I’ll just go get that check.”

Shane doesn’t know what to make of that comment by the time Bergara walks back in and sits down.

He still doesn’t know once they’re back at the motel. An old married couple? _Them_? Who could ever think that?

He watches as Bergara types away at his laptop, a look of concentration on his face. He’s wearing a soft looking t-shirt and sweatpants, and he’s got his glasses on. Sometimes he mutters to himself, just little snippets of things that Shane can’t quite catch from the other side of the room. And Shane thinks, _Someone gets to look at him like this all the time. Someone gets to come home to this._

The waitress thought Shane was that person.

 _Funny_ , Shane thinks. _An absolute riot that anyone would ever think that about us._ But somehow it doesn’t really feel all that humorous.

***

Bergara’s phone ringing drags him out of sleep.

When he opens his eyes, Bergara’s sitting up in bed, groggily answering, “Hello?”

Shane checks the alarm clock: 6:43AM. It’s a little too early for the missus to be calling.

Bergara says into the phone, “Jesus, seriously? Where did it happen?... Thanks, yeah, we’ll head out straight away. There’s no report as to why he did it?... Thank you. Please keep me updated on any developments… You too.”

“What happened?”

“We gotta get moving. One of The Five – Steven – got arrested in Kentucky. Apparently he punched some guy at a bar last night.”

“Fuck.” Shane rubs at his eyes and wills his body to wake up. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They quickly get dressed and throw everything into their suitcases. They elbow each other out of the way at the sink as they brush their teeth, and Bergara’s tie is hastily stuffed into his pocket as they rush out the door to check out.

They need to stop and get gas an hour into their four hour drive there. Shane heads inside the gas station and grabs the biggest coffee cups they have and fills them up. Cream and sugar for him. Cream no sugar for Bergara.

It’s funny all the little things he’s picked up about Bergara from all of the meetings, the shared motel rooms, and – on one memorable occasion – a fundraising dinner that ended with the two of them arguing in the hallway, getting asked to leave, and then arguing in the parking lot. Shane knows the way he likes his coffee, that he loves theme parks, that he has respectable opinions about popcorn. That he hates Pop-Tarts, bears, and Shane.

It’s smart to know your enemy. And yet there’s so much he still doesn’t know, so much that Shane will _never_ know, and the thought makes him frown as he pays for their pathetic breakfast and heads back to the car.

“You sure you don’t want to swing by Point Pleasant before we leave the state?” he says as he hands Bergara his cup of coffee. “You could try to seduce Mothman, break up his marriage with Bigfoot.”

Bergara almost looks like he wants to laugh but doesn’t. “Shut up.”

***

“Son of a bitch,” Bergara hisses as he stomps out of the police station. “We drove all this way!”

Steven was released two hours ago. The guy he punched didn’t want to press charges. They could be anywhere by now.

“Yeah, I seriously thought you were gonna crash the car and kill us. You get this glassy sort of crazed look in your eyes. It’s terrifying.”

Bergara glares at him.

Shane points at his face and says, “Yes, that one exactly! Spooky.”

“I really will kill you.”

Shane laughs, having heard that threat a hundred times before. Bergara is marching towards the car, several steps ahead of Shane now, so he has to call out his usual response, “I’m going to report you to Elizondo!”

They grab a late lunch as they wait to get information on last night’s victim. Bergara keeps arguing that this is completely outside of The Five’s normal behavior, that something had to have happened for him to punch someone, but Shane is pretty sure this is just escalation – _that thing cults tend to do_.

Shane says, “Soon we’re gonna have ourselves a little alien fight club going around.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Isn’t your middle name Steven?”

Bergara narrows his eyes at him in suspicion. “Yeah.”

“I feel like I’m making some real connections here. Connecting the dots. Are you also feeling a little punchy? Are aliens telling you to do it?”

“I’m feeling punchy, alright, but it has nothing to do with aliens.”

“I think we’re onto something here. Might wanna write that down in your little notebook.”

“No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Why won’t you let me see what’s in there?”

“Why would I show it to you when I know you’re just going to make fun of it?”

“Because we’re supposed to be a team. You can’t keep secrets from your teammate. And also because I want to make fun of it.”

Bergara shakes his head at him and sighs. “God, I really wish Brent had come instead of you.”

“But we’re having so much fun.” Shane gives him his sweetest, most obnoxious smile and is rewarded with Bergara giving him a look that clearly says he’d like to drown him in a river. “I think we’re on our way to becoming best friends.”

“We’re absolutely not.”

“Ehhh, I think we could be.”

“We’re not.”

“Do you like bracelets? We could get matching ones.”

Bergara’s phone beeps. He gives Shane one last disgust filled look before checking it. “Looks like the victim last night was Brad Langford. White male, thirty-one years old, brown hair, brown eyes.”

“Do you think he’s an alien?”

“I’m – I swear to god, I’m gonna just leave you by the side of the road,” Bergara says as Shane laughs.

***

Langford isn’t home when they get to his house. His neighbor, a sweet old lady who called Shane handsome and is therefore his favorite person in this town, said that Brad usually hangs around the local bars most nights.

The first bar they go to is a bust, as is the second. The third is packed thanks to a band that is set to play that night. They decide to split up and look for him, or rather, Bergara decides that’s what they should do and bossily tells Shane the plan.

The place is not that big, but with so many people shifting around, it’s not an easy task even with his height advantage. It also doesn’t help that the lighting is rather low and many of the men are wearing baseball hats. It feels like a rather futile search, and he’s about to go find Bergara and tell him that when he notices a man staring at him.

He’s blond, dressed in a blue button-up that compliments his eyes. He smiles at Shane and walks over when Shane smiles back. He says, “Hey, I’m Zack.”

“I’m Shane.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He glances down Shane’s frame and adds, “Very nice.”

Shane laughs and feels stupidly pleased that maybe he’s still got something going for him. Bergara isn’t the only one capable of getting a date, at least. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too.” It occurs to Shane that if he’s gonna chat up a local, it might be worth asking, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know a Brad Langford, by any chance?”

Zack frowns and looks a bit thrown off. “Brad? Uh, yeah, I do actually. I used to work with him. Why?”

“Oh it’s this whole thing,” Shane says, rolling his eyes to try and make it seem like it’s not a big deal. “He got punched in the face yesterday, and we’re just trying to see what happened.”

“Well he’s usually down at the Red Lion, from what I remember. Not surprised to hear he got punched, though. That was just bound to happen.” He gives Shane another once over, this one less admiring, and asks, “Are you a cop?”

“Oh god, no, this is not at all a real investigation, trust me.”

“So a sort of fake investigation, huh? That sounds pretty interesting. Could I buy you a drink? I’d sure love to hear how Brad got punched in the face.”

“Um,” Shane says and is saved from answering thanks to Bergara popping up next to him.

“I got nothing,” Bergara says, before noticing Zack. He frowns at him and looks suspiciously between him and Shane. “Am I interrupting something here?”

“A bit,” Zack says with a laugh.

“Oh.” Bergara doesn’t move, just gives Shane another disapproving frown.

Shane quickly says, “Zack here knows where we can find Langford. Um, we should probably head over there.”

Zack says, “Well, if you have a free night…” He grabs a napkin from a nearby table and writes his phone number on it. He hands it to Shane with another flirtatious smile. “I’d be pretty interested to hear from you.”

Shane smiles back and tucks the napkin into his pocket. “Thanks,” he says, before following after Bergara who is already making his way to the door.

As Shane gets into the passenger seat of the car, he says, “I guess Mrs. Baker was right. I really am a handsome young man.”

Bergara rolls his eyes as he starts the car. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yes, but handsomely insufferable.”

“Jesus, just pull up the address and let’s go. You can brag about your conquests later.”

The Red Lion looks dodgy as hell. It’s the sort of place that Shane would think only tough bikers would be into, with a sort of look that says that yes, several people _have_ been stabbed here. His feeling of dread only worsens as several people turn to look at them as they make their way in.

“Is it just me,” Shane says, keeping his voice low so that only Bergara can hear, “or does everyone here look like they could murder us?”

“It’s definitely not just you.” Bergara seems nervous, which doesn’t exactly make Shane feel better. He’s gained quite a bit of muscle over the last two years, but he’s never been much of a fighter. Neither is Shane, which means they’d be pretty royally fucked in a fight.

Bergara leads them to the bar where they try to look around as casually as possible. It’s pretty easy to spot Langford. His face is bruised, and he looks like the sort of guy that would’ve called Shane homophobic slurs in high school.

They approach him carefully. He’s sitting by himself in one of the corner tables, a large glass of beer in hand. He doesn’t look pleased to see them.

“Brad Langford?” Bergara asks. Shane is rather impressed that he managed to keep his voice steady.

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Agent Bergara, and this is Dr. Madej. We were hoping to ask you a couple of questions about the incident last night.”

Langford glares at them and says through gritted teeth, “I have nothing to say about that.”

“We’d just like to know if – ”

Langford gets to his feet so quickly that he knocks over his beer, the scrape of the chair against the floor making them flinch. He gets close to Bergara, almost nose to nose, and says, “I already told you I’m not talking about that.”

Before he can think, Shane says, “Hey, take it easy now,” and steps closer until he’s towering over Langford. The man turns his glare towards Shane, though it’s less impressive now that he has to crane his neck to look at him. “We’re not here to start trouble.”

“I know my rights,” Langford says. “I won’t tolerate being harassed by the likes of you.”

“Um, Madej.” Bergara grabs Shane by the sleeve of his shirt. “We should probably get going.”

Looking away from Langford, Shane sees that basically all of the other patrons have their eyes on them. A few are standing up, preparing to step in.

 _Fuck_ , Shane thinks. His eyes meet Bergara’s, and it’s clear he’s thinking the same thing. “Let’s go,” Shane says. He turns back to Langford who is still looking at them like he’s ready for another fight. The sight sends a shiver down his spine as he and Bergara walk quickly towards the door.

They lock the car doors as soon as they get in. Shane fully expects a mob to come out of the bar to hunt them down, but _thank god_ no one does.

It takes a few minutes for Shane's heart to slow down, but as soon as it does, he says, “You were just about to get your ass kicked.”

“Shut up,” Bergara says testily, glancing away from the road to shoot him a glare. “ _You_ were about to get your ass kicked.”

“No, you were just – ”

“If I hadn’t – ”

“– about to get the ass kicking of – ”

“– stepped in, and – good lord! Okay, just, shut up! Let's just get a motel and get some fucking sleep. We can have this stupid fight in the morning.”

“ _Fine_.”

“You were for sure going to end up in a hospital, though.”

***

“Goddammit,” Bergara groans as they drive by yet another motel with a sign that says _No Vacancy_. It feels like they’ve gone to every motel in town. It’s late, they’re tired, and completely empty handed.

Shane rolls his eyes. He feels like his body is about to collapse from exhaustion. There's only one last place in town they haven't checked, and with the shitty luck they've had today, it seems like they're gonna end up sleeping in the car.

It's a tense seven minute drive.

The bright, neon _Vacancy_ sign makes them both sigh in relief. They grab their bags from the trunk and head for the lobby, feet dragging, shoulders slumped. Shane can’t wait to lie down and sleep for ten years. They ask for a room with two beds.

The woman behind the counter says, “All we have available is a room with one bed.”

Bergara says, “What about an extra cot?”

She gives Bergara a look that clearly says she wishes he hadn’t asked but still says, “I’ll go check,” before disappearing behind a door.

Shane lets his bag drop to the floor. He’s so fucking tired. “Very noble of you to sleep on the cot,” he says.

“It’s for you.

“You think I would fit? _Me_? Have you seen my legs?”

“I’m sure you can fold your freak legs up to fit.”

“Your tiny body won’t even notice the difference.”

Bergara exhales a long, exhausted sigh. “They might not even have one, and then we wasted time arguing about it.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s be adults about this. There’s gotta be a fair way to settle this.”

***

The cot is about two inches too short for him. He’s by the window, and it’s drafty. The blankets are uncomfortable and somehow both not warm enough _and_ making him sweaty.

But Shane lost the coin-flip, so now all he can do is silently curse Bergara for getting to spread out on the king sized bed. He had laughed when Shane suggested they share the bed and said, “You lost, loser.”

Shane really, really, _really_ hates him. This is cruel. Bergara is a deranged sociopath, just like Shane always suspected.

But, as he adjusts his legs to try and find a comfortable position, a tiny, begrudging part of him has to admit that this is a little funny.

Bergara has more guts than Shane ever gave him credit for, and he can’t help but respect that.

***

Shane has always been a scientist at heart. He has always poked and prodded at things to figure them out. The world has rules and order. You can observe and predict, and then everything starts to make sense.

And maybe that’s why Shane can't take his eyes off him the next morning as Bergara stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie despite the Kentucky summer heat.

He's never understood Bergara. He’s never particularly wanted to either, too busy arguing with him to even try. But there must be some sort of order to the madness in that brain of his, and the more time they spend together, the more Shane wonders what exactly that even looks like.

“Let’s go,” Bergara says, turning away from the mirror and heading straight for the door.

Shane could complain about his bossy tone or argue about where they’re going, but he stops himself. Instead he heads to the dresser where he’d emptied out his pockets the night before to grab his wallet and room key. He’s a little surprised to see the napkin with Zack’s number sitting there. He’d honestly forgotten about that.

Bergara’s already opening the door and stepping outside. Shane quickly stuffs his wallet and key into his back pocket. He grabs the napkin and tosses it into the trash can as he follows Bergara out the door.

Bergara has never made sense to him, but Shane thinks it might be worth a try.

***

It's been rather quiet as Bergara scribbles away in his notebook during breakfast. As far as Shane can tell, he's trying to form some sort of plan, but it doesn't seem to be going well based on the way he keeps frowning at it.

Shane only looks away from studying him when his phone beeps.

**Brent: Still alive?**

Shane smiles as he reads the text. Kind of him to check up, though a little late since his body would be well into the decomposing stage if Bergara had given into a violent impulse at the start of the trip.

**Shane: Just barely. He’s worse than I feared**

**Brent: Can I get your cat calendar once you kick it?**

Bergara frowns at him as Shane laughs and sends back a quick text telling him to keep his dirty paws away from his calendar – pun fully intended.

“Who are you texting?”

“Why, do you think they’re secret aliens?” Shane says, the response spilling out of him automatically.

Bergara rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah, ‘cause that joke just gets funnier and funnier.” He looks back down at his notebook, ignoring Shane once again, and Shane feels a prickle of regret.

He hadn’t really meant to say that. Shane shifts in his chair, trying to look casual, like he couldn’t care less as he asks, “Who keeps calling _you_? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Bergara looks up sharply and eyes Shane suspiciously. The seconds tick by, making Shane sweat, until finally Bergara says, “Fine. You first.”

“It’s just Brent. Just checking in and threatening to steal my stuff.”

“Oh,” Bergara says, sounding surprised. “I thought… I didn’t think you guys were close.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty good friends. Who did you think it was?”

“I don’t know.” Bergara shrugs. “Not Brent.”

“Your turn.”

“Okay.” Bergara gives him another suspicious look and fidgets with a sugar packet. “But you can’t make fun of me for it.”

“I’m absolutely not agreeing to that.”

Bergara narrows his eyes at him but says anyway, “It’s… It’s my mom.”

It takes a second to sink in. Over and over, Shane had been picturing all these different partners, different home scenes, domestic bliss, and happiness. Shane feels himself grin, despite wanting to suppress it.

Bergara rolls his eyes and slouches further down his seat. “I knew you were going to be an ass about it.”

“No, no,” Shane says, trying to hide his face behind his coffee cup. “That’s sweet. Is she, like, your best friend?”

The sugar packet hits him on the forehead, making him spill some of his coffee, and Shane starts laughing. He can’t help it. Something in his chest feels looser, more relaxed, and oh god, his mom? Here Shane had been so jealous of Bergara having someone, of being beaten in this area of life, and in reality… Shane had nothing to worry about.

“Our family dog was sick. She’s been keeping me up to date.”

“Aw, Bergara, you big ol’ softie! That’s absolutely adorable.”

“Shut up,” Bergara says, obviously trying to hide his embarrassment.

Its funny how Shane feels absolutely happy at having solved the mystery of the caller. It had been nagging at him. Maybe that’s what prompts him to share, “I’m pretty close with my parents. I get it.”

“Oh so you weren’t created in a lab, built by scientists trying to create a human computer?”

Shane laughs. “I may seem like the pinnacle of perfection, but I’m all human, baby.”

Bergara scoffs but smiles, and Shane feels something in his chest spark up at the sight.

“I in no way implied perfection.”

“I think you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did,” Shane says, taking a sip of his coffee with an air of finality.

“You’re insufferable. I hate you so much,” Bergara says, but for the first time, Shane doesn’t quite believe him.

***

Nobody wants to talk.

They spend the rest of the day trying to track down witnesses, employees, cops, _anything_. The most they get is a handful of brief statements, all basically saying that everything was normal and then suddenly one of them snapped and punched Langford.

It’s almost five in the afternoon when they hit a complete dead end.

“Well,” Bergara says with a deep sigh, “guess we should...we should...” He slowly slumps against the steering wheel. “I don’t fucking know. This the worst.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty shit.”

Bergara groans in misery, looking so dejected and pitiful, that for a moment Shane actually has the urge to reach over and pat his shoulder or – or do _something_ to make it better. That would probably be weird, right? Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go over too well. Plus what is he thinking, wanting to comfort Bergara?

Clearly, there’s only one real option.

It takes some convincing and a bit of arguing, but twenty-five minutes later they finally pull into the least sketchy sounding bar Shane could find, which happens to be a sports bar. Bergara instantly perks up as soon as they walk in, eyes quickly scanning the framed jerseys hanging on virtually every bit of space that isn’t covered by a TV.

They sit at the bar and order two beers.

Bergara’s eyes are glued to a screen that is showing a bunch of stuff about football, and Shane starts to feel a little weird, a little out of place. Here they are in what some might call companionable silence. If Bergara wasn’t wearing a suit, they might even blend in as two regular dudes just hanging out.

“So…” Shane says to break the silence. “You like sports?”

It takes a second for Bergara to tear his eyes away from the screen, but when he looks over at Shane, he gives him a look like that’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. And okay, maybe it was stupid considering that he has berated Bergara before for making sports references that Shane doesn’t get, but Shane just sips his beer and stares at him expectantly.

“Yeah,” Bergara answers, apparently deciding to humor him. “Love ‘em.”

“What’s your favorite team?”

“From which sport?”

Shane shrugs. “I don’t know. Sports. All sports.”

Bergara huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes like Shane’s an idiot. “I’m a die hard Lakers fan for basketball and a Chargers fan for football. Clearly I don’t have to ask if you have a favorite team.”

“No, I don’t know a lick about any of that. Well, I think the Lakers are in L.A. right? That’s about all I know.”

“Yeah, the Chargers too.”

“You got a thing for L.A.?”

“That’s where I’m from.”

“You are? Huh,” Shane says, adding that to his ever growing pile of facts about Bergara. Shane had gotten the sense that it was somewhere out west, but had never pinpointed a place. “How’d you end up on the other side of the country?”

“I got this job, basically. Human case officer at AATIP. Think about _that_ ,” he says, pointing a finger at Shane. “We could’ve spent our whole lives with thousands of miles between us, our paths never crossing, if it wasn’t for the creation of this department.”

“Just another reason to hate AATIP,” Shane says automatically, a complete reflex by now. His insides flinch as he hears himself, bracing for this conversation to go off the rails like usual.

But Bergara just scoffs out a laugh and fires back, “Yup. I wake up every day and wish I had done something else with my stupid film degree.”

“ _What_?” Shane sets his beer down with a thud, turning his body so that he’s completely facing him. “Are you – they offered you the job after getting a degree in _film_? As in, fiction? Oh, this makes so much sense!”

“Is your brain exploding?” Bergara asks, smiling. “Are you about to go out running and screaming that you solved the case?”

“ _Yes_. Oh man, I am so sorry. All this time I thought you were a total idiot, but you were just talking about Hollywood stuff.”

Maybe it’s just the beer kicking in, but Bergara laughs, another one of those full bodied ones that practically make him double over. It takes him a couple of seconds to compose himself. “God, you’re the worst.”

This really does click things into place, though. Bergara looked pretty young in those videos, and Shane always wondered how they could’ve hired someone with that kind of reputation. He has to ask: “Did you get hired because of those investigation videos?”

Bergara’s smile quickly dissolves into a frown. “How do you know about those?” he asks, sounding betrayed, voice all high like it gets when he’s getting worked up. “Did Brent tell you?”

 _Brent knew about them?_ Brent knew, and he didn’t fucking tell Shane?

But Shane takes the easy way out and says, “Yeah, he told me,” and doesn’t mention that he’s spent too many nights over the last two years googling him and that those videos are some of the first things that come up. He doesn’t tell him how he’s hate watched them dozens of times, Bergara laying out theories and so-called investigations about ghosts and cold cases and, of course, _aliens_.

Bergara looks embarrassed, eyes on his beer, shoulders slightly hunched in. “Whatever, they were good investigations, and they got me this job. It sharpened my skills.”

“I liked them,” Shane says before he can stop himself. “No, yeah, they were pretty good.”

Bergara gives him a suspicious look. “You _liked_ them?”

“Yeah, good editing. Clear format.”

“...Thanks?” he says hesitantly, still clearly waiting for the punchline.

So Shane gives it to him: “Yeah, and I loved that voice you put on. _Having said that, let’s get into some theories._ Loved that.”

It works. Bergara laughs and says, “Fuck you!”

“No, no, it was really good. _Hey guys, this is Ryan with another video of Unsolved!_ That was my favorite part.”

“I’m gonna delete them.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Shane shrugs and takes another gulp of his beer. “Got them all saved onto a DVD, so. They’re safe and sound.”

“If I had just stayed in L.A…” Bergara sighs dramatically and shakes his head. “Buzzfeed offered to pick up the show.”

“Aw, come on, _Ryan_! Aren’t you having a good time?”

“No! Especially hearing my name come out of your mouth, jesus – it’s so freaky.”

“What do you mean, _Ryan?_ ”

“Nothing, _Shane_.”

It sends a strange feeling down Shane’s spine, a thrill, a shiver, making him laughs. “Okay, yeah, that’s weird.”

***

“Just let me sleep in the bed,” Shane says.

“No.”

“I’ll stay on my side. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“No.”

“I’m writing a strongly worded letter to AATIP,” Shane says miserably from the cot. “This is inhumane.”

Bergara laughs and turns off the bedside lamp. “Do it. See if I care.”

It’s just as uncomfortable as it was last night, but it doesn’t take long for Shane to feel the edge of sleep pulling him in. It’s been a long, exhausting day, though they managed to go the rest of the night without falling into any serious arguments. An absolute miracle, truly.

Shane is almost completely under when he hears Bergara ask, “Do you think we’ll find her?”

Shane blinks a couple of times, for a second unsure if what he heard was real or his brain playing tricks on him. But in the dark he hears Bergara shifting around, what sounds like a pillow being moved.

Will they find her? Honestly, she’s probably dead, has probably been dead for weeks, and if she’s not, then God help her because Shane doesn’t even like to think about what could be happening to her in the hands of a cult.

But that’s not the answer Bergara needs to hear. And maybe even two days ago Shane wouldn’t have cared and would have told him the truth, but there’s something in his voice that makes Shane say, “Yeah. We’ll find her.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shane is in the middle of a call with Brent when he hears Bergara excitedly yell, “Yes! _Fuck_ yes!”

“What was that?” Brent asks as Shane turns to see Bergara grinning maniacally at his computer.

“The usual,” Shane replies. “Just Bergara being insane.”

Bergara flips him off without looking up, and Shane laughs.

Brent says, “Sounds like you two are having fun,” with an implying sort of tone that Shane decidedly ignores.

“Oh, it’s a riot.” Shane watches as Bergara gets up and pulls out his suitcase. “I better go. Send me those reports, though, and I’ll try to read over them when I can today.”

“Will do. Don’t get kidnapped by aliens.”

“Don’t burn down the lab.” Shane hangs up and says to Bergara, “What are you doing?”

Bergara continues frantically throwing things inside of his suitcase, doesn’t even slow down as he says, “A UFO was spotted in the Smoky Mountains last night! The boards are going crazy!”

“And so are you, apparently.”

Bergara doesn’t seem to care as he continues running around the room. “Hurry up! We gotta get going.”

“Alright, alright,” Shane says, doing as he’s told and starting to pack. “I guess we can't keep the aliens waiting.”

“Shut up! Just pack!”

They check out of the motel and hit the road. Bergara seems excited, crazed energy radiating from him. Shane has never seen him like this before, and an unsettled feeling begins to creep into his chest.

He’s not quite ready to run into these people. Bergara might think they’re harmless, but Shane has seen enough true crime documentaries to know that cults should never be trusted. Cults obsessed with aliens even less so.

He tries to ignore it as they drive down to Tennessee, focusing instead on trying to find a decent place to stay to avoid another cot night. They’ve got a pretty tight budget, but the perfect place presents itself eventually.

“You’ll love it,” he tells Bergara, unable to stop himself from smiling as he types in their information.

“I have a feeling I definitely will _not_ love it.”

“No, no, you’ll love it.”

“What are you doing? You piece of shit, Madej, you better not be reserving a place that’s, like, haunted or – ”

“Oh fuck, that would’ve been good. I should’ve done that, but no, I got us a lovely cabin with a full sized fridge and a pool. Only one bedroom to save money, but it’s got a nice pull out couch that you can sleep in.”

Bergara shoots him a glare. “That _I_ can sleep in?”

The argument carries them the rest of the way there, ending when they stop to grab food and do another coin toss that Shane wins. It feels pretty good to punch at the air in victory and ignore Bergara’s demand for best two out of three.

“You got those crazy eyes again,” Shane tells him as they pull into the cabin resort. “Are you planning on going all psycho on them?”

“The only person I would kill is you, and so far I’ve been able to resist the temptation.”

“Hmm, but for how much longer?”

Bergara raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “Guess we’ll see.”

Shane laughs and follows when Bergara gets out of the car.

The rows of cabins remind him of being in the boyscouts. They’re not too far from town, but with the mountains surrounding them it feels pretty isolated. Their cabin is one of the smaller ones, but Shane can truly say it’s his favorite place they’ve shared together. He keeps his eyes on Bergara’s face as they step inside, grinning as Bergara quickly scans around the living room.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Bergara says dryly, rolling his eyes.

Most of the cabin is bear themed. Shane walks over to the rather large painting of two bears sitting in front of the fireplace and points to it. “Look at that! Wow, the pictures online did not do it justice. This is true art.”

“I hate this place.”

“Oh, come on. I think it's _beary_ nice.”

Bergara closes his eyes, face scrunched up in agony. “I think a piece of my soul just died.”

Shane just laughs as he goes to dump his suitcase in the bedroom that he rightfully gets to call his.

***

 _Strange_ , Shane thinks as he watches Bergara move clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. According to Bergara's FBI contact, The Five are still making their way down from Indiana. With the rest of the day to themselves, they decided to do some laundry and grocery shopping, and then Bergara stepped out of the bathroom in jeans and a rather fitted t-shirt to “blend in.”

Shane has only ever seen him wearing large t-shirts to sleep in, never out in public, and the idea of Bergara even _owning_ jeans had never occurred to him. Bergara even wore a suit when they went down to Louisiana and had to walk around a bunch of swampy land to get to a man who claimed to have an alien skeleton. (He didn’t. It had just been a very gross taxidermy monstrosity, and Shane had had a pretty good laugh that day.)

It’s distracting. Little by little, Bergara had been getting ripped these past two years, and now, out in the sunlight, it’s quite a sight. A couple of women have done very obvious double takes as they pass him, and Shane can’t even blame them. Bergara, the annoying and perpetual thorn in Shane’s side, looks...pretty hot. Shane would have to be blind not to see it.

Not that he hadn't been handsome when they first met. He had been, but it had been easy to ignore. Shane had only had his job for three weeks when he was called down to the Pentagon to consult on one of Bergara’s cases. Bergara sent him an e-mail the night before with terms to familiarize himself with like UAP, APRO, and CAUS, and by the time Shane actually listened to his little presentation, he knew that this man was insane.

 _Like seeing a cat wearing a sweater_ , Shane thinks as they head to the grocery store. What other outfits does Bergara have hidden away?

They’re arguing about what type of bread to get when Bergara’s phone starts ringing.

“Your mom?” Shane asks, taking the opportunity to put his preferred bread in the cart.

“Elizondo.” Bergara frowns at his phone before answering, “This is Agent Bergara… Yes… As stated in the report, they are on their way here, and we will be able to monitor them as well as possibly interact, if we deem it appropriate… I understand, but I really think – ” Bergara looks murderous as his eyes turn to Shane. He hands the phone over, says, “He wants to talk to you.”

“This is Dr. Madej.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Elizondo’s tired voice says. “Agent Bergara’s reports aren’t really showing any progress in the case, and I don’t want another dead end here. From what you have seen so far, do you believe this investigation is warranted? ”

Shane looks at Bergara, who’s got his arms crossed and is still glaring at him. Is it? As far as Shane can tell, the whole thing has been a rather boring series of interviews and now they’re about to poke a bear with a stick.

But he finds himself saying anyway, “I believe it is.”

Elizondo sighs on the other end. “I guess another week might not hurt. Just make sure Bergara minds the budget, alright? And keep an eye on him. He’s got all these ideas, and I just can’t handle him sometimes.”

Well that makes two of them. He says, “Will do.”

“Unbelievable,” Bergara grumbles as he takes back his phone.

“He says you’re insane, and that he’s going to fire you.”

Bergara rolls his eyes. “Yeah, what else is new.”

Shane doesn’t notice until they’re checking out that at some point Bergara switched the breads out, and even though he’s annoyed, a part of him is also impressed. Bergara just seems to be full of surprises.

***

Shane’s the only one in the pool, the whole place quiet except for the hum of cicadas and the occasional cricket. The water is warm despite the late hour. He tries to get his body to relax as he lets himself float.

He doesn’t believe in premonitions as a general rule. Countless times he’s rolled his eyes at Bergara whenever he claimed to hate the feeling of a place. Psychics, auras, magic crystals – all of that is a bunch of bullshit. This feeling in his stomach, he tells himself, is just there from his brain registering red flags and warning him that it’s not looking good.

They don’t know what these people are capable of. They've already gotten violent once before; what's to stop them from getting violent again?

As proven with Langford, neither of them are fighters. Hell, Shane has seen Bergara get scared by the sound of snapping twigs. Shane is tall, and he _might_ be able to take a guy down if pushed – depending on the guy. But against five people? Shane wouldn't be able to protect them. Any number of terrible things could happen.

Maybe he should’ve told Elizondo that and gotten the whole thing called off. Why hadn’t he? They could be on their way home right now. Shane could’ve gone back to the office, back to his own projects, made sure Brent didn’t steal his cat calendar. Bergara would’ve probably been so pissed off that it would’ve destroyed whatever stockholm syndrome induced niceties they’ve managed so far. It would’ve been Brent's turn to deal with him next, and he could’ve gone weeks without seeing him again.

But he hadn’t.

The sound of the pool gate opening startles him, and he feels a jolt of surprise when he sees Bergara walking towards him.

“What happened?” Shane asks, swimming over towards him.

“What?” Bergara frowns and gives him a confused look. “Nothing happened.”

“Then...why are you here?”

Bergara shrugs and looks away, as if suddenly the _No Lifeguard on Duty_ sign is fascinating. He sits down at the edge of the pool.

When it becomes clear that he’s not going to say anything, Shane says, “Did you see a ghost? Did it scare you? Or – ” he smiles obnoxiously “did you _miss_ me?”

Bergara gives him a disgusted look and starts to get back up.

“Hey, hey, hey, sit, sit – I was just kidding,” Shane says quickly and is surprised when Bergara actually does sit back down, though he’s still glaring at him. “Obviously you came here because you’ve heard I can do a really cool handstand, and you want to see it.”

“I would rather throw bleach in my eyes than watch you do a handstand.”

Shane laughs and lets himself float again, though keeping one hand on the edge to anchor himself. “No, I get it. It would be too powerful a thing to witness, and you can’t handle it. It’s brave of you to admit it.”

Bergara groans in annoyance and brings a hand up to cover his face. “Jesus, you’re the worst. I hate you so much that I literally feel like I’ll spontaneously combust from it sometimes.”

“Spontaneous human combustion isn’t a real thing.”

“I have several files that you still haven’t been able to give me answers for.”

“Just because it’s inconclusive doesn’t prove you right.”

“Doesn’t prove me wrong either, though, does it? Can you definitively say that they didn’t spontaneously combust?”

“I can make a very good educated guess – ”

“No, no, I don’t give a shit about your guess! Can you _definitively_ say that they didn’t?”

“No, I can’t.” Shane watches as Bergara grins triumphantly, but instead of the usual explosion of annoyance he normally feels, what he feels now is just…amusement. It’s a strange feeling. Shane lets go of the edge. “Are you happy? I hope that meaningless win feels good.”

“Feels great.”

“Good, good, I’m glad it does, _Ryan_ , because it’s quite possible we’re gonna get murdered soon. Might as well enjoy life while you can.”

Bergara raises his eyebrows, like Shane’s words are insane and coming out of nowhere. “What are you talking about? Is that what you really think is going to you happen?”

“We don’t even have guns!”

“Are you – are you _serious_? I’m trying to find proof that aliens exist. Why would I need a gun?”

“To shoot at the other crazy people that are also looking for aliens!”

Bergara looks like he wants to laugh. “It’s gonna be _fine_.”

“Those are some famous last words. What happened to the guy that always made me go first into buildings just because they looked a little spooky? Where's that guy?”

“You make me sound like a coward.”

“You took a water bottle full of holy water to Kansas.”

“The house that guy lived in was one block away from the most haunted houses in the country!” Bergara says, voice going high in that way that usually indicates they've hit one of their usual fighting points. “If you want to take your chances with demonic energies, go ahead, but I was glad I brought it.”

“Alright, okay, that's not the point. I just don't get why you're so sure this cult won't chop us up into little pieces for crossing them.”

Bergara is quiet for a moment, staring at the water. With only the lights around the pool and the moon illuminating him, he looks like such a different person than the one Shane met two years ago. Softer, somehow.

Finally Bergara looks at him again and says, “I've spent a lot of time reaching them, even before I worked for AATIP. They've never been violent. They've never done anything criminal. Steven's arrest was the first, and considering what we saw from Langford, it was probably provoked. They have spent so much of their lives chasing UFOs, and I finally have a shot at finding out why.”

“That's…insane.”

Bergara rolls his eyes before leaning forward, eyes meeting Shane's. “It’s gonna be fine, _Shane_. You’ll be back in DC before you know it, a new believer in aliens, and I’ll get to gloat and say I told you so.”

Bergara looks so sure of himself, infuriatingly so. Shane could argue that there’s no way for him to know that, that the chances of something going wrong are pretty high, and that there is absolutely no way Shane is going to start believing in his version of aliens anytime soon – no matter what crazy cult people have to say about it.

But Bergara’s still in a t-shirt, the moon bright behind him, and Shane doesn't want to fight. Not tonight. So he says instead, “Fine, whatever. Watch me do a handstand.”

***

“Seriously, what are we doing?” Shane asks as Bergara parks in front of a motel. “Are they in there? If we're doing a stakeout, I would’ve brought snacks and – ”

“No, shut up, that’s not what we’re doing.”

Shane narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. This whole morning has been weird. The first thing Shane saw when he left his room was Bergara in the kitchen making _both_ of them breakfast. Shane had sat down at their little two person table where a small stack of toast and a hot mug of coffee were already waiting for him. The coffee wasn’t even poisoned or anything. Bergara had acted very shifty, glancing constantly at the time, completely lost in thought. When Shane asked what they were going to do, he’d just said that he had an errand to run – _alone_.

No way was Shane going to stay behind twiddling his thumbs while Bergara went out and did something secretive and, in all probability, stupid. They’d argued about it for close to six minutes before Bergara threw his hands up dramatically and said, “Fine! Fine, you can come! But just… Don’t say anything, okay? We’re undercover, so just… don’t mention anything about AATIP.”

Bergara is still wearing jeans and a t-shirt (this time the soft-looking gray shirt he sometimes uses to sleep in) after deciding that they should try to blend in and look less like lunatics the government pays to chase after aliens. It’s throwing Shane completely off, and all he can do is cross his arms and follow Bergara as they walk to one of the rooms. He watches helplessly as Bergara knocks on the door.

A man with a big pile of curly hair and tattoos opens the door and instantly grins at seeing Bergara. “Ryan!” he says and pulls him into a hug.

Shane watches, eyebrows raised, as Bergara hugs him back. It takes a few seconds for Bergara’s friend to even notice Shane.

“Oh, hi! Who’s your tall friend?”

“Uh, this is… Shane. Shane, this is my friend, Curly.” He gives Shane a murderous look that clearly means he should play along or else.

“Hi,” Shane says and offers his hand for a handshake.

“Oh no, come here.” Curly slaps his hand away and pulls him into a rather tight hug. “Any friend of Ryan’s is a friend of mine.”

Shane can’t help but laugh and pats Curly’s back in return. “Thanks, man.”

“Come in, come in. You guys just missed Eugene. He’s out hiking, probably posting all sorts of sexy photos of himself. Sit down.” He points to one of the two beds, sitting down on the other. “I’m so happy to see you! We all miss you so much.”

“I miss you guys too,” Bergara says, giving his friend a genuine smile. “When I saw the sighting I was hoping you’d make it.”

“We’re only in town for two days so something better happen. If I don’t at least see some weird lights in the sky tonight, I’m gonna be so pissed. It’s a long ass flight to get here from L.A.”

“Oh,” Shane says, “you guys are hometown friends, then?”

“We actually met online first.” Curly smiles at Bergara. “Aww, remember? Ryan’s _Unsolved_ videos were, like, the biggest hit in the supernatural community. When he asked me to share some of my data, I was _there_. We just became good buds after that. I still can’t believe you stopped making them to edit dumb government videos, man. A waste of your talents!”

Bergara gives him an apologetic shrug. “Gotta pay the bills somehow.”

Curly rolls his eyes at him good naturedly, a fond smile on his lips. “Ugh, let's not have that fight again.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Shane says, nodding. “So you’re sort of an...alien chaser too?”

Curly laughs. “When my wallet allows it,yeah. I also built and run a little forum where people can keep track of things, talk about things going on in the community, share information, yadda yadda.”

“He’s being modest,” Bergara says. “ _Warp Drive_ is the biggest forum for all things extraterrestrial. It’s got everything.”

Curly gives a small shrug. “I don’t like to brag. I will say, though, that I offered to hire Ryan multiple times. He’s my white whale. I was so heartbroken when he left the community.”

“I didn’t leave,” Bergara protests. “Just...downsized it to a hobby.”

Shane's eyes meet Bergara’s, which clearly warn him not to say _anything_. Shane just smiles sweetly back at him, _secret’s safe with me_. So Shane knows a part of Bergara’s life that even his friends don’t…

Interesting.

“What about you two?” Curly asks, pointing between them. “What’s the scoop here?”

“No scoop,” Bergara says quickly. “We’re just friends. He’s a skeptic to an exhausting degree, and I’m trying to prove him wrong. ”

“Ooh, trying to lure him into our camp? How fun. Did Ryan tell you all about The Five yet?”

Shane nods. “Yeah, some of it. It’s some, uh, spooky stuff.”

“Pretty spooky. If you go back to the earliest posts about them on _Warp Drive_ , they were called The Six because Johanna Miles was still with them. It was only a couple of months, though, and then she left. People thought she’d died ‘til someone found her on an Instagram post.”

“So basically, these people have been getting stalked by hundreds of people online for years?”

Curly laughs. “Well when you put it that way it sounds kinda gross and creepy. But yeah. I mean, at first a lot of people thought they were like an urban legend or some sort of hoax. We’ve tried to ask them questions so many times, but they like to keep to themselves.”

“Kiiinda sounds like it’s just a cult,” Shane says.

“I mean, they could be.” Curly shrugs. “Some stuff does point that way, like the tattoo they all have, the communal living. Although, it’s dreadfully cliche for cults to be obsessed with aliens, right? I think it's gotta be more than that. I mean, who gives up a normal life to live in a van and look for aliens? I’ve dedicated most of my adult life to looking for answers, and even I wouldn’t go that far. I feel like they have to know something.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Bergara says. “I'm pretty sure they know what happened to Johanna.”

Curly nods. “Oh for sure. Without a doubt, they know where she is. I’m recording the observation tonight so hopefully something spooky will happen with them.”

Bergara frowns. “You’re not gonna try to talk to them, are you?”

“God no,” Curly says, looking truly appalled at the idea. “I do not want to be found dead in a field, my guts all hanging out, weird symbols carved in my chest, thank you very much.”

Shane leans forward, a new flame of worry entering his stomach. “Do you really think they’d do something like that?”

“I mean, they haven’t shown any signs of violence, but you can never be too careful, right? That’s what I keep telling Ryan. He put his beautiful face and name out there for the whole world to see, and quite frankly I’m shocked he hasn’t gotten murdered yet. He kept taunting the _mob_.”

“And nothing has happened to me yet.” Bergara says. “We can have a little bit of faith in the world. Very little, like, almost none – but still _some_ faith.”

“Aww, Shane, you look worried.” Curly laughs and tells Bergara, “He is so adorable. Where have you been hiding him? Don’t you worry, because Ryan can bench press, like, two hundred pounds. He’ll protect you.”

“This guy?” Shane says, pointing at Bergara. “He’d run away and leave me in the middle of the field, and then _I’d_ be the one with symbols carved into my skin.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Bergara protests.

“You would.”

“I mean, I might _run_ , but I would make sure you’re running too.”

“You see?” Shane tells Curly. “If I go missing, please report it to the police and tell them who dragged me out to die.”

“Will do,” Curly says with a little salute before laughing. “You’re so cute. I wish you could’ve met Eugene. Oh!” Curly turns to Bergara, an excited grin on his face. “Speaking of hot guys, what’s up with your office romance? Time’s running out! Did you fuck him yet?”

“ _Curly_!” Bergara hisses, eyes wide.

“What, is that a secret? We’re all friends here! You know about Ryan’s little dilemma, right Shane?”

“Uh, no,” Shane says, a strange, heavy feeling settling into his stomach. Bergara looks completely mortified, and Shane wonders which of the boring suits in the Pentagon has caught Bergara’s eye.

“It’s the juiciest story. Ryan has this sexy coworker, right? And like, there’s some energy going on between them, some hot, carnal passion, and I keep telling him that the only way to get over this guy is to just sleep with him!” He looks at Bergara, who has a hand over his face, and yells, “Just once, Ryan! Just fuck him!”

“Okay, well this has been a lovely visit,” Bergara says, quickly standing up and looking like he might seriously run out of the room. “I have to go walk into the sea now, but it was good to see you, Curly. Let’s go, Shane.”

Curly laughs as he follows them to the door, not looking apologetic at all.

He pulls Shane into a hug and says, “I hope Ryan makes a believer out of you! You’d be a very good addition to our little club. Ryan, don’t you dare hide him away from me, okay? He better come visit us regularly.”

Bergara’s response is muffled into the giant hug that Curly gives him, through Shane swears it sounds an awful lot like, “Not a chance.”

They walk in silence back to the car, that heavy feeling still in Shane’s stomach, like he swallowed an anville.

They’re halfway back to the cabin when Shane can’t quite take the silence anymore.

He asks, “Is it Donaldson?”

“What? _No_.”

“Jenkins?”

“Oh god, we are not doing this. It’s none of your business.”

“I can’t believe you have a crush on Jenkins. That guy’s an asshole.”

“Yeah well, maybe that’s my thing,” Bergara snaps. “Now let’s pretend this whole thing never happened.”

Shane crosses his arms, the feeling in his stomach morphing into something dark. Jenkins _is_ an asshole. “Even you could do better than that.”

Bergara groans in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “It’s not Jenkins, okay? And what the hell do you mean even _I_ could do better?”

It turns into one of their usual fights pretty quickly after that, with all of the usual jabs and punches pulled out. By the time they’re back in their cabin, Shane feels like he could walk into the forest and yell until his lungs bleed.

***

The Five have taken up residence in a small, dilapidated looking house a little up a mountain. Shane had thought that Bergara was going to leave without him, but much to his surprise, around seven that night, Bergara pounded on his bedroom door and yelled, “Let’s go, idiot! I have their address.”

Bergara managed to park close to the curve of the road, giving them a clear enough view of the house while still keeping them partially covered by the trees. They’ve been sitting in the car for three hours now, not speaking, still pissed off at each other.

It’s boring as fuck. The window curtains are completely drawn closed, and no one has been in or out. The silence feels maddening. They face the motionless house, refusing to look at one another, refusing to talk.

Shane does not feel guilty. It would be stupid to feel guilty. They’ve fought plenty of times before, called each other worse things, and Bergara actually getting offended this time does not make him feel bad, okay? Shane hadn’t meant to be an asshole – he really hadn’t! Bergara _could_ do better than Jenkins.

Even with his stupid alien obsession, his tenacious belief in the supernatural, his theme park obsession (which is perhaps even weirder), his flagrant disregard for science – despite all of it, Bergara is still better than Jenkins, who always calls Shane chief and asks, _How’s the weather up there?_ God, just the thought of Bergara pining after that guy makes Shane’s blood boil.

Shane has never felt guilty when it comes to Bergara and their stupid fights. Things with them have always been simple. Bergara gets mad trying to convince Shane that aliens are on Earth shoving things up people’s butts. Shane gets mad at him for believing such idiotic things. They fight about it, and then press repeat. _Simple_. But now…

Knowing that Bergara’s mom calls him regularly, meeting his friend, finding out about his romance _thing_ … It’s weird. It’s too complicated.

Maybe Shane does feel a little guilty. They’d managed to go a couple of days without wanting to kill each other, and now it’s all ruined. He _hadn’t_ meant it in an insulting way. He doesn’t even really know why he said anything at all.

Bergara is sitting so still, leaning against the car door, as far away from Shane as he can get in the small space. If he were any other person, Shane would apologize.

But it isn’t any other person. This is Agent Ryan Bergara, his sworn enemy. Enemies don’t apologize to each other, and they absolutely haven’t these past two years. Not even when Nancy told them that their behavior was “unprofessional” and “embarrassingly childish.” Why the hell should Shane care if Bergara’s feelings got hurt, anyway? So what.

Shane’s only job here is to prove him wrong, not to get all chummy with him.

So Shane doesn’t apologize.

He doesn’t apologize the next night either, and they barely exchange ten words all day.

And maybe, Shane thinks, the guilt would leave him alone if Bergara would just go back to wearing his stupid suits and ties. His brain recognizes that guy as the one who made Shane sit through an entire theory about zombies being responsible for the disappearance of the Roanoke colony – which Shane is pretty sure Bergara made up just to rile him up. Shane _hates_ that guy.

But it doesn’t feel like that’s who he’s with as they walk around town trying to surreptitiously follow Daysha and Steven as they go in and out of shops, as they spend another silent night watching the house.

And here Bergara is on their third uneventful night, wearing a hoodie just because the temperature dipped below seventy degrees. Bergara absentmindedly pulls the sleeves over his hands. He’s barely even looked at Shane today, and Shane just doesn’t have it in him any more to keep fighting.

“This is boring,” Shane says.

Bergara doesn’t even react, completely ignoring him.

“Remember when we saw them get a pizza delivered yesterday? That was pretty exciting right? Think they’ll get Chinese or something tonight?”

Shane counts the seconds in his head, _four, five, six_. He’s going to explode if Bergara doesn’t say something soon. This is torture. _Eleven, twelve, thirteen_ –

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” That at least gets Bergara to look at him, eyebrows raised in slight surprise. Shane says, “I didn’t – I didn’t really mean to imply anything about you. I’m sure any guy or girl or whoever would be lucky to have you.”

Bergara doesn’t say anything. Shane’s insides twist themselves into knots. He just needs things to be better, needs the silence to end – and then Bergara smiles and huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, this is pretty boring. And I accept your apology.”

“And?” Shane raises his eyebrows expectantly. When Bergara just gives him a questioning look back, he says, “Now it’s your turn.”

“I’m not apologizing. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“You called me a soulless, big headed demon.”

“Yeah.” Bergara’s grinning now, very pleased with himself. “Those are just facts.”

Shane should probably be annoyed or upset, but god, all he feels is relief. The tense feeling that had been slowly crushing them seeps away.

Shane scoffs. “I’m going to report you to Elizondo,” he says out of habit, to not give in _too_ much.

***

It’s barely seven when Shane wakes up the next morning. It’s too early to be up considering they came back in the early hours of the morning, but a sudden burst of restless energy gets him out of bed. He can’t hear any noise coming from the other side of the door, so he tries to dress as quietly as possible.

When he steps out into the living room, he sees Bergara still asleep. His hair is a mess, so unlike the careful style he usually keeps it in that it makes Shane smile.

He looks...peaceful, which feels strange. That’s not really a word he can normally use to describe Bergara. Annoying, fearful, argumentative, wrathful – now those typically work better. But with the soft light that comes in through the windows, the way he looks completely relaxed, it makes Shane think of a photo he found of Bergara during one of his deep Google dives.

It was just Bergara leaning against a bright pink wall, grinning almost shyly at the camera. He looked younger, the way he looked in his Unsolved videos. It was in an online portfolio for a photographer named Helen that Shane assumes must be his ex-girlfriend. Shane had stared at it for an embarrassingly long time trying to understand how the guy in the photo could be the same person he had just spent all day fighting with. The guy in the photo seemed soft and sweet, the camera lens capturing him lovingly.

 _I guess it is the same guy_ , Shane thinks.

He averts his eyes as he realizes he’s spent too long staring at him. He walks as quietly as he can around the bed and goes outside, making sure the click of the door is barely audible. Evidently he needs some fresh air to clear his head.

He takes big, deep breaths as he walks around. He focuses on the way the birds are singing, on the morning fresh air. The pathway leads him to a spot where the trees thin out and give way to a spectacular view of the mountains. Smoky fog weaves itself along them, leaving Shane mesmerized.

It’s beautiful, and Shane wishes he was here on a normal vacation instead of a useless alien hunt. He chuckles to himself as he imagines Bergara beside him on a hiking trail. They’d probably yell at each other all day. Him and Bergara on a vacation together, now that’s a hilarious thought. Bergara would probably drag him to Dollywood and spend the whole time geeking out about it. He already gave Shane a small lecture on it during their drive down here.

It could be a little fun, though. Bergara’s afraid of heights. Shane could force him to go on every single ride that goes high up. And they probably have fun food stuff there, like giant pretzels and funnel cakes. Might not be too bad.

It’s with that thought that he makes his way back to their cabin, figuring it’s late enough now to wake up Sleeping Beauty. He opens the door as quietly as he can, peeking inside to make sure Bergara’s still asleep.

He is, so Shane steps inside and slams the door.

Bergara groans in protest.

Shane all but yells, “Wake up, baby!”

“Fuck you,” Bergara says, voice deep and groggy. “And don’t – ugh, forget it.”

“Get up. What kind of operation are you running here?” Shane heads over to the kitchen area and starts to loudly get out pans, plates, and utensils.

With one final groan, Bergara sits up and frowns at Shane. “What are you doing? Are you making breakfast?”

“Someone has to. We got another full day of stalking ahead of us, and since your majesty decided to sleep in, looks like the task has fallen on me.”

“How brave of you. Just don’t burn it.”

“I won’t burn it.”

“The fire extinguisher is under the kitchen sink.”

“Alright, ha ha, go get dressed or I won’t feed you.”

Bergara, surprisingly, listens to Shane for once. By the time he comes out fully showered and dressed, Shane has a lovely breakfast laid out for them.

“See,” Shane says, waving a hand at his delicious creation. “None of it is burnt.”

“Great. I’ll call up the President, have them give you a medal of freedom. Is that what you want?”

“It’s the least you can do.”

Bergara tries to suppress a smile as he sits down, but he’s very obviously failing. Shane doesn't mention it.

They eat in something resembling companionable silence. It’s quite the achievement for them, and Shane takes a moment to feel a little proud of himself for being a civil adult. He wonders if he can go all day without taunting Bergara about his belief in ghosts, but quickly realizes that’s way too lofty of a goal. Maybe he can restrain himself ‘til five in the afternoon, though that’s also really pushing it.

“So,” Shane says as they start clearing their plates and putting them in the little dishwasher. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Same as yesterday. Try to see what they’re doing and hope for something to happen.”

“Was Curly disappointed that he left without seeing one of those Tic Tacs?”

“He was. So was I, actually. I expected them to be more...active.”

“Well hopefully tonight we can catch them doing a little magic spell and summoning some excitement right up for ya.”

Bergara rolls his eyes. “They’re not wizards.”

“Who knows?” Shane shrugs. “Dream big, Bergara.”

“You’re so dumb,” he says, shaking his head. Then he seems to hesitate, looks away from Shane and says in a voice that’s _too_ casual, “Hey, thanks for breakfast.”

Shane’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “You’re welcome.”

Bergara quickly starts walking towards the door, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s go, c’mon.”

***

The Five’s blue van isn’t in the driveway. The house seems to be completely still. It leaves a bad feeling in Shane’s stomach as Bergara stares at it with those crazy eyes he gets.

“I still don’t get it,” Shane says. “I don’t get what you find so fascinating about them.”

Bergara doesn’t even look away from the house as he answers, “No one exactly knows what they’re after. All we know is that UFO’s are involved. How do you _not_ find that fascinating?”

“I find it creepy.”

“Yeah, well, it can be both.”

Shane makes a disgusted, disapproving face at him, but Bergara doesn’t even notice. “Do you think Johanna’s in there?” he asks, his stomach sinking at the thought. “Do you think they’ve got her locked up the basement?”

“They’re not dangerous.”

“You keep saying that, but just because they’re your favorite alien celebrities or whatever doesn’t mean they can’t be dangerous. Lots of famous people are dangerous. _They’re a cult_.”

“And _you_ keep saying _that_ , but just because they’re a group doesn’t mean they’re a cult. They’re not recruiting people to join, they’re not trying to spread a message – ”

“We have no way of knowing what they’re actually doing. If secrecy is so big with them, maybe they _are_ spreading a message, maybe they secretly run an underground network. Like this house – how did they get it?”

“It was advertised online.”

“Maybe they just _want_ you to think that. Maybe it’s all an elaborate ruse, and they’ve actually got people throughout the country supporting them.”

Bergara laughs. “Great, glad to see you’ve jumped on the conspiracy bandwagon, Madej. Welcome.”

“Wait, no – ”

“Too late, you’re in the club.”

“I don’t want to be in it.”

“You’ll get your official membership card in the mail. We’ve got a secret handshake and meet on Wednesdays.”

“I’m just saying that we can’t know for sure what it is they’ve got going in there. It could be a torture chamber for all we know. That house could be full of kidnapped people.”

Bergara _finally_ turns to him. There’s an intense look on his face as he says, “Let’s go check it out.”

“ _No_ , absolutely not – are you insane?”

Bergara opens the car door and gets out. Shane’s eyes widen in horror as he quickly looks around. His hand helplessly goes to the door, hesitating, fumbling, before opening it and running after Bergara.

It’s broad fucking daylight! Shane’s heart hammers in his chest as he sees Bergara walking quickly towards the front door.

It doesn’t take long to catch up thanks to Shane’s longer legs, but it’s not fast enough.

Bergara knocks on the front door.

Shane hisses at him, “ _What are you doing_? Who the hell are you?”

Bergara whispers back, “We’re never going to solve anything if we don’t actually try.”

Shane runs a hand over his face as he tries to stay calm, as he resists the urge to grab Bergara and run out of there. He braces himself, his whole body tense with anticipation. He waits for footsteps, for the door to be thrown open. But it doesn’t come.

“They must not be here,” Bergara says, sounding disappointed. He reaches for the doorknob and tries to open it. It’s locked. “Damn.”

“You’re an idiot. What happened to the guy that always has me walk in first to a building when he feels a ‘bad energy’? I’d rather deal with that guy than whatever is going on here.”

“Think the back door is open?” Bergara says, apparently to himself as he doesn’t wait for Shane to reply before walking towards the back.

“ _No_ ,” Shane says vehemently, right behind him. “This is basically the start of every horror movie, two idiots messing with something they shouldn’t. Why don’t we just call the FBI or the police and have them come look? Bergara? Ber – _Ryan_ , goddammit.”

Bergara looks back at him at the sound of his name, but nonetheless opens the fence door and steps inside. Shane hesitates, knowing this is a very horrible, very _stupid_ idea. Then he follows.

Bergara’s already at the back door, hand wrapped around the doorknob. Shane holds his breath. This is so stupid, _this is so, so fucking stupid._

“It’s locked,” Bergara says over his shoulder.

Shane exhales. He stands with his arms crossed as Bergara moves to the window and tries to peer in through the small crack in the curtains. His attempt lasts only a handful of seconds before he sighs and walks back to Shane.

“I can’t see anything,” Bergara says, disappointed.

“Good. Can we fucking go now? Or do you want to try sliding down the chimney like Santa Claus?”

“We can go,” he says, seemingly not at all ashamed of himself as he starts making his way back to the car. “At least we tried.”

Shane scoffs but doesn’t say anything, too annoyed at Bergara to trust himself to reply.

***

At exactly five in the afternoon, Shane says, “Do trees become ghosts?”

Bergara shoots him a glare as they continue walking back towards the car. They’ve spent all afternoon trying to look for The Five’s van, popping into random places asking if they’ve seen them. They haven’t had much luck.

Bergara says, “ _No_ ,” with such a level of conviction and annoyance that Shane can’t help but laugh.

“Why not?”

“Trees don’t have souls.”

Shane laughs again, thoroughly enjoying the way Bergara visibly gets riled up. “Do spiders have souls? Are there ghost spiders? How about ghost bears?”

“There actually have been sightings of a ghost bear in San Francisco where – stop laughing, you asshole!”

Shane has to stop walking as he doubles over, hands going to his knees for support as he laughs. It doesn’t help that Bergara crosses his arms and glares down at him. The thought of Bergara having to face two of his fears wrapped into one is too funny. “I’m just picturing your – oh god, your face if you saw it! Now I hope ghosts are real.”

“Yeah, laugh it up. They’re perfectly rational fears.”

“No. They’re really not.”

“I bet if you were to ask people, most of them would – ” Bergara squints his eyes, attention suddenly caught by something behind Shane. “Is that Steven?”

Shane turns, eyes quickly scanning the people on the street until they land on him. Yup, that’s Steven, alright. Just like the last couple of days, Shane's skin feels uncomfortable seeing them, like he’s doing something he shouldn’t. “Looks like he’s heading towards that bar.”

“Come on, let's go.” Bergara begins walking instantly, and Shane follows, trying to ignore the reluctant feeling in his stomach.

The inside of the bar is huge and incredibly hipster-esque. The lighting is pleasantly low with Johnny Cash playing unobtrusively in the background. Several pool tables are spread throughout. Shane instantly spots all five of them around a table.

Bergara leads them to an open table on the opposite side of the bar, a little hidden in the shadows. This whole thing has really taught Shane one thing: Bergara is garbage at stalking. There are no newspapers with holes, no hats, no wigs, no sunglasses. Where’s the secrecy? The art of mystery? He had vetoed Shane’s suggestion of getting trench coats.

Maybe if it was more cartoonish Shane wouldn’t feel so strange watching them. Despite everything, they look like normal people. They look pretty much like everyone else in the bar, just friends hanging out and having a good time. No one else is even paying any attention to them.

Jen, Andrew, and Steven start a game of pool. They laugh at whatever Andrew just said, and Shane frowns as he averts his eyes and looks at Bergara.

“This feels creepy,” he says.

“So you’ve said. Multiple times. An annoying amount of times, actually.”

“Well I want it on the record.”

“Fine, sure, yeah. I mean, it _is_ pretty weird. I’ve been reading about them for years, and here they are, just across the room.”

“Wow. You just made it even creepier.”

“Oh, shut up. They’re a very common topic among the – _look, look, look_ , Maya’s alone!” Shane turns to see Daysha walking towards the bathroom, leaving Maya by herself at the table. Bergara says, “She’s the most open to strangers. If we just introduce ourselves – ”

“Do you seriously think saying hi is going to get you anywhere with – ”

“You don’t know that it can’t! We need answers, and – ”

“This is above and beyond what I signed up for. We are absolutely not doing that.”

“Fine, then don’t do it,” Bergara says before getting up and walking directly towards her.

Shane thinks, _You idiot_ , and can’t do anything other than follow Bergara.

Maya blinks in surprise as they stand in front of her, then smiles when Bergara says, voice hesitant and honest, “Hi. Um, I’m Ryan. This is Shane.”

Shane gives a little wave and hopes that his smile is not as sickly as it feels.

“I’m Maya,” she says, leaning forward, inviting. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“You too,” Bergara says. “So are you, um, like – are you from near, uh – ”

“I think my friend here is trying to ask if you’re a local,” Shane says, alarmed at Bergara’s sudden inability to speak.

“Right, yes. Thank you, Shane.” Bergara shoots him an annoyed look. “That is what I was trying to ask.”

Maya giggles and gives Bergara a look that is bordering on flirtatious, and oh no, no, no, no, _no_ – this is not happening. She says, “I’m from Arizona, actually. And you?”

Shane is seconds away from stepping in and making it clear that this in no way is going to end up as some sort of dating set up. That would be both highly unprofessional and completely ruin the whole investigation. Plus Bergara would probably fucking join the damn cult if he was invited, so this nonsense has to stop _immediately_ – but Shane doesn’t have to say anything.

They’re interrupted by a woman’s voice behind them asking, “Can we help you?”

They turn to find Jen looking at them, suspicion clear as she glances between the three of them. Andrew and Steven loom one step behind her like bodyguards. Shane tries not to panic as he remembers once again just how outnumbered they are.

“Oh come on,” Maya says, getting up and coming to stand next to Jen. “They were just saying hi, right guys? I don’t think they mean any trouble.”

Jen crosses her arms. “If they don’t, then why have they been following us?”

Shane feels like his stomach is hitting the floor. He looks at Bergara, who looks back at him. Helpless. Caught. Trapped.

“Uh, Ryan, why don’t we just go and leave these nice people alone?” Shane says, grabbing Bergara’s arm, quickly trying to map the fastest route to the door. Steven, Andrew, and Jen just take a step closer.

“Is this what we’re doing now?” Daysha says, joining the group. She looks between Shane and Bergara like she’s taking stock.

Shane tightens his grip on Bergara’s arm.

Jen says, “Are you two from the government? FBI?”

Bergara’s hands come up placatingly, but Shane doesn’t let go of him. “Okay, yes. Yes, we’re with the government, but we’re not FBI or anything like that. We’re just trying to get to the truth. That’s it.”

“We already told you we don’t have Johanna,” Steven says, voice low. The look he’s giving them is so dark and angry that it sends chills through Shane’s body. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?”

“Sure thing,” Shane says quickly. “Ryan, _let’s go_.”

Bergara’s clearly about to argue, but Shane doesn’t let him, too aware of the fact that more and more people are looking their way. His heart races as he yanks Bergara towards the door, trying his best not to break into a run.

He doesn’t stop until they’ve walked down the street and are near their car, which is when Bergara breaks out of his grip and says, “Why did you do that?”

“ _Me_? We were about to get murdered in there! What, did you think they were about to open their hearts up to you? Tell you all their little alien secrets?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck _you_ for just walking up to them like that!”

Bergara just runs his hands through his hair, eyes wide and crazed. “Oh god, we really fucked that up.”

“Get in the fucking car,” Shane says, hand outstretched, trying to ignore the people on the sidewalk giving them a wide berth and disapproving looks. “Give me the keys. We’re going home.”

Bergara glares defiantly at him, but Shane glares right back. It takes several seconds, but eventually he slaps the keys into Shane’s hand and stomps over to the passenger side of the car.

The drive back to their cabin is deadly silent. Shane’s heart still hasn’t returned to its normal rate, and all he can think about is how close they’d been to ending up in a ditch somewhere. This is insane – _Bergara_ is insane, and Shane is fucking stupid to have let this go on for so long.

As soon as the cabin door closes behind them, Bergara says, “What now? We’re just going to give up?”

“ _Yes_ , you little maniac! We don’t have guns or backup, and, if you couldn’t tell from the way they were threatening us, they don’t really want to be our friends.”

Bergara looks at him the way he usually does when they’re about to have one of their big arguments: eyes narrowed and full of hate and spite. Shane braces himself for it. He stands up to his full height, mentally lines up facts and insults to fling back.

But Bergara crosses his arms, looks away, and says, “Fine.”

“...Fine? _Fine?_ ”

“Yeah.” Bergara throws himself on the couch, looking like a sulking child. “Months of research and weeks of being stuck with you, all for nothing.”

It stings. It shouldn’t – Bergara’s opinion is worthless – but it does. “Great,” Shane says, rolling his eyes. “Well the good news is that it’s all over, and we can finally be rid of each other now.”

He doesn’t wait for Bergara to say anything else. He slams the door to his room and goes to sit on the bed. He puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe, tries to stop the pulsing anger that’s thrumming through him. He’s so goddamn angry at Bergara for putting him through this, for being so goddamn crazy.

But more than anything he’s angry at himself for letting this affect him so much. For still feeling so afraid.

He takes in a deep breath, tries to release it, but it comes out shaky.

***

Shane doesn’t remember falling asleep, but the alarm clock now reads 4:12 AM. He’s still wearing last night’s clothes, and there’s a heavy feeling near his lungs, crushing and worrying, that doesn’t let him forget what happened.

Shane sighs and puts on his glasses. They had just stepped back into speaking terms, but now… Now they’re probably back to square one, or hell, maybe even below that. Something Shane hadn’t even thought would be possible.

Shane doesn’t like this role reversal Bergara is pulling on him. Shane is supposed to be the brave one, the one that knocks first, the one that taunts demons and ghosts to freak Bergara out. Bergara should be the one shaken up and angry at Shane for being reckless. But they’re not in an empty room that Bergara claims has bad energy. These are real people that pose a real threat, and _this_ is where Bergara charges in blindly?

It makes no sense. Bergara never does. Shane should’ve learned that by now.

 _I’ll just get a glass of water_ , he thinks. And if he happens to steal a glance of Bergara on the couch, hopefully asleep and not staying up plotting revenge on him, well that’s just a coincidence.

Shane does his best to open the door as quietly as possible. The cabin is dark and silent. He tiptoes carefully to the kitchen, praying he won’t trip on anything. But when he turns to the living room, he can instantly feel that something is off. The shadows don’t make sense, and when Shane turns on the light, the couch is empty, no sign of the bed ever having been pulled out.

Shane quickly runs to check the bathroom, despite already knowing it will be empty. He barely manages to slip on some shoes and grab his phone before running outside. The car is gone.

Agonizing helplessness settles around him as he calls Bergara’s number with clumsy fingers. He has to keep reminding himself to breathe. It rings and rings and rings, and Shane is about to hang up and fucking call 911 when a woman’s voice answers.

“Um, yes, hello? Who is this?”

“Bergara?” Shane says, heart hammering in his chest. “Who are you? Where’s Ryan?”

“Sir, please calm down,” the voice tells him. “This is Nurse Miller. Ryan Bergara is in the hospital.”

The words are like a blow to his chest. “Where? How – how is he? Is he okay?”

“Are you an immediate family member?”

“I – I’m – yes, yes I’m his husband.”

“He was dropped off at the ER by a woman who says she found him by the side of the road. He is currently unconscious, but we cannot see any external damage except for some superficial scratches on his hands and arms. They are currently running some more tests. I can give you our address.”

“Yes, thank you,” Shane says, bringing a hand up to his head in an attempt to calm down, his heart still trying to escape his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Shane’s body aches from sitting too long in this uncomfortable chair, but he doesn’t dare move. Bergara looks so fragile lying there in the hospital bed. Shane knows better than anyone how tough this little idiot is, how strong and stubborn and restless, which it probably why he feels so fucking thrown off seeing him like this. He has to be here when Bergara wakes up.

_What was he thinking?_ Shane keeps turning the question over and over in his brain, vacillating between anger and despair. He’s no closer to finding an answer than he was almost seven hours ago when he got here.

The doctor asked him if he knew where his husband had been tonight, if he had any idea what could've happened to him. Shane had said no.

The weight of it settles uncomfortably in his chest, a nagging worry that he has fucked up. It's true, in a way. He _doesn't_ know what happened. But undoubtedly Bergara went after them, and Shane's brain keeps torturing him with endless possibilities about what could've happened.

Dr. Smith said – in a calm, cool voice to calm Shane down after he burst into the hospital demanding to know what happened – that no drugs have been found in his system and nothing was broken. No severe blood loss, no alcohol poisoning.

By now they've also ruled out a concussion after a trip to the MRI that left Shane feeling sick with worry. “We're fairly certain he's not in a coma,” Dr. Smith told him with a perplexed frown as she stared at his chart. “He's responsive and seems to be experience REM cycles. We're just not sure why he's not waking up.”

“Should we try harder to wake up him?” Shane had asked, eyes anxiously glancing back at Bergara. “Shake him or something?”

She'd given Shane a _look_ , one he'd gotten from a couple of other nurses as well, like they didn't trust him. Clearly they’re suspicious of him, like maybe he'd been the one to dump him by the side of the road. “No,” she'd said sternly. “Let him sleep. I'm sure your husband will wake up soon and have a rather interesting story to tell us.

That was almost three hours ago. Shane's not sure what to do other than continue to sit here and quietly freak out. Maybe he should call Elizondo or the police or the FBI or – fuck, maybe he should be out there looking for those bastards himself! He doesn’t know what to do, he can’t think straight, _Bergara isn’t waking up, and Shane doesn’t know what to do_.

Bergara is the one that calls the shots. He’s the one that comes up with the plan and bosses Shane around. And now all Shane can do is sit here, frozen with indecision, hoping he'll wake up.

“I see you're still here,” Nurse Gomez says disapprovingly as she steps into the room.

“Still here.” Shane watches her as she looks at the vitals sign monitor and then makes a note in the chart. He can't stop the hopeful note in voice as he asks, “Anything?”

“Same as last time.”

“Is there such a thing as too much sleep? Can he – I mean, if he doesn't wake up soon, could that hurt him?”

There’s pity in her eyes, and Shane wonders just how pathetic he must look. She says, “We just have to let him rest. Whatever happened to your husband, sleeping won't hurt him.”

Shane nods, looking down at his hands. He’s a little embarrassed, both by the lie and how he's acting. Not that he had any other choice with the former. It would’ve taken too long to explain their situation, to get approval from all the right channels, not to mention that AATIP isn’t exactly a well known branch and likes it that way.

“You should get some rest yourself,” she tells him for the third time. “It’s obvious you love him and want to be here for him, but you’re not helping anyone by tiring yourself out. Would he want you to suffer?”

Shane can’t stop himself: he scoffs out a laugh, a tired, bitter sound that he quickly tries to mask as a cough. “Uh, no,” he lies, trying to righten himself. “He wouldn’t.” Bergara would probably love the fact that Shane is suffering, but Nurse Gomez probably wouldn’t understand.

She shakes her head at him, _what a hopeless cause_. “It’s almost noon. You should get some lunch,” she says before leaving the room, the door clicking loudly behind her as it closes.

Shane takes a deep breath. His eyes travel back to Bergara’s sleeping face. And there it is again, that all-encompassing urge to reach out, the rest of the world blurring at the edges until it’s all he can focus on. It’s ridiculous. It’s sentimental in a way that Shane just isn’t.

He’s managed to fight it for this long, but he just _can’t_ anymore. He gives in. He reaches over and grabs Bergara’s hand.

His fingers are cold, and Shane is careful to avoid the scratches at the heel of his hand. Shane squeezes lightly, feeling just a tiny bit better. At least he’s alive. At least he wasn’t kidnapped or god knows what else. The list is too long and too scary for Shane to process, so he doesn’t.

Bergara's fingers flex slightly, making Shane freeze, but he doesn't open his eyes. He stays asleep, and Shane swallows down the aching, helpless feeling rising in him.

How did he end up here, pathetically clinging to Bergara's hand, not even sure if it's to comfort Bergara or himself? What is he _doing_? If Bergara wakes up and sees this, he'll probably laugh at him or – or tell him he's being weird and Shane won’t even be able to defend himself because he _is_ being weird. This whole goddamn _trip_ has been weird, and Shane feels like he's losing control of whatever little sanity he had left.

It's ridiculous. It's absurd.

He should've known that spending so much time in Bergara's company was going to make him crazy. He should've seen Bergara's little stunt coming.

A buzzing noise startles him, and he quickly lets go of Bergara’s hand. The buzzing continues, coming from the plastic bag they gave him full of Bergara’s clothes, glasses, and everything in his pockets.

It’s Bergara's phone.

Shit shit shit shit –

Shane pulls it out, and _shit_ , it’s his mom. That’s way worse than it being Elizondo. He stares at it in wide-eyed panic until it stops ringing. Oh god, if only Bergara would just _wake up_. This is so fucking typical of him! Shane needs answers and to yell at him to make sure he’s okay, so of course Bergara’s going to stay in dreamland an excessive amount. Bergara is going to get the screaming of a lifetime for pulling this on him.

The phone starts buzzing again.

A sinking feeling enters his stomach as he realizes what he needs to do. He can’t sit here and make her worry as hours and hours go by with her calls unanswered. He’s never seen Bergara not answer a call.

He sits up and clears his throat, feeling completely unprepared to deal with this. “Hello, Mrs. Bergara?”

There’s a slight pause before a confused woman's voice says, “Yes – sorry, who’s this?”

“Uh, hi.” Lie or the truth? Lie or the truth? _Quick quick quick_ – “This is...Shane. Uh, Ryan's asleep right now, but I can have him call you as soon as he wakes up.”

There’s a heavy silence on the other end, and Shane holds his breath, praying she won't ask any questions or poke at his house of cards. “You're Shane _Madej_?” she finally asks. “The scientist he works with?”

“Uh,” Shane says. _He told his mom about me? What did he tell her? Does she know he hates me? Does she hate me?_ “Yes? I mean, I – I am, yes.”

In a strange, heavy tone full of implications, she says “And Ryan's sleeping right now?”

Shane winces as he realizes that she’s probably getting the wrong idea. It’s not like Shane slept over or like it’s a normal occurrence for Shane to be there when Bergara is asleep. God, he’s spectacularly fucking this up. “Oh, it's not – I mean, usually we don’t – ” he tries, but it sounds unconvincing even to his own ears. He tries again: “Ryan’s just resting. Um, I'll tell him you called.”

There's definitely a note of amusement in her voice as she says, “Alright, you do that. It was nice speaking with you.”

“You too,” Shane says, squeezing his eyes shut as the phone beeps to signal the call has ended.

Bergara better be okay, because Shane is going to kill him for putting him through this mess. Well, that is if Bergara doesn't kill him first for making his mom think that they're...that they...

Jesus.

***

Shane reluctantly makes his way down endless hallways after Nurse Gomez all but physically forces him out of the room with orders to go eat something. She'd said, “Come on now, your husband is not going to go anywhere, and you’re not gonna be any help if you pass out from exhaustion yourself.”

His stomach rumbles loudly as he enters the cafeteria, and it’s only then that he realizes how hungry and tired he really is. Nurse Gomez is right. Shane should go back to the cabin. He should sleep, he should pack up, he should call Elizondo – do _something_ other than sit pathetically next to Bergara’s bed all day.

_Get it together_ , he thinks as he sits down, a sandwich and a cup of coffee in front of him. This has always been the problem working with Bergara. He forgets to be a calm, rational person as soon as he’s within a few feet of him, and then it all becomes about how much he can push, how much he can argue, which one of them will break first.

He forces himself to eat at a normal, human pace. Ignores the urge to hurry back. He answers a couple of e-mails and then calls Brent to check in and make sure things are going okay. Brent assures him things are fine, no major mishaps other than Carl spilling coffee in the lab again. Then Brent asks, “How’s your better half?”

Shane winces. Normally the teasing tone in Brent’s voice is easy to shrug off, but not this time. It takes too long for him to say, “He’s fine.”

“Did something happen?” He can picture Brent frowning, that worried, pinched expression he gets whenever something goes wrong.

“No, everything’s fine,” Shane lies again, bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes. “Just, y’know. He’s... _him_. But it’s fine, it’ll be fine.” _God, please let it be fine._ “Hey, actually, I should go. Tell Carl to stop being such a dumbass.”

“Will do. Say hi to Ryan for me.”

“Okay, bye,” Shane says before hanging up. He exhales, feeling his body deflate.

He should call Elizondo. He needs to report Bergara for doing something so fucking stupid and call this whole thing off. Objectively, that’s the only reasonable decision and he can't keep putting it off. He _should_.

But Bergara might lose his job, and each time Shane thinks about that, it feels like he’s being tied to an anchor, about to be thrown overboard. Yes, Bergara is a huge pain in the ass, but Shane knows that there’s probably no one else in that whole department that cares as deeply or believes as strongly as him. Shane has done a couple of consults for a few of the other agents in AATIP, and most of them are skeptics like Shane. They accept his opinions easily, write down his best guesses and call it a day.

Bergara’s the only insane little nutjob that actually makes Shane sit through entire presentations and drags him all across the country. He’s the only one really trying. The responsibility of ending that sits heavily on Shane’s shoulders.

He’s so fucking tired. He should go back to the cabin and sleep. But instead he gets up and throws away the trash. He walks back to Bergara’s room and wonders if he could somehow fall asleep on that chair if he managed to steal a pillow.

He freezes as soon as he enters Bergara's room, eyes wide at what he's seeing. Bergara's now wide awake. Shane says, “You _motherfucker_ ,” as he quickly closes the door behind him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of Bergara looking up at him from the hospital bed, his glasses on, his hair a mess. “What the hell were you _thinking_?”

“Was I in a coma?”

“You’re going to _wish_ you were in a coma!”

Bergara doesn’t even seem slightly threatened as he muses, “The nurse said she promised to tell my husband when I woke up, but that he had been so worried about me that she was going to let him eat first. I don’t remember getting married…” Bergara dramatically pretends to check for a ring on his left hand. “Did…did you marry me while I was unconscious? Isn't that illegal?”

Shane crosses his arms and tries to look more intimidating, ignoring the feeling of blood rushing to his face. “Oh shut up, you little – I didn't know what else to say!”

“Oh good. Here I thought I had brain damage or amnesia.” Bergara laughs, mean and mocking in a way that makes Shane feel defensive. “God, out of all the dumb things you could've come up with, you went with that?”

“I’m sure the brain damage was already there considering that you decided to _sneak out_ in the middle of the night to go chase after a cult, _alone_ , and landed yourself in the hospital.” Shane throws his best glare at him. “We won’t even go into you believing you’ve seen a ghost – clearly your brain hasn’t been functioning at full capacity for quite some time.”

Bergara at least has the decency to look down, all humor gone from his face at that. “I… That was pretty stupid, I know, but I couldn’t just go home empty handed.”

“So what, you went to their house? Did they hurt you?”

“No, they didn’t hurt me.” Bergara sighs and rolls his eyes, like telling Shane is _such_ an inconvenience, like he’d rather do anything else. “I'm fine. They weren’t home. I was driving back when I saw their van parked by some woods. I pulled over and tried to find them.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. You know there’s actual black bears in this part of the country, right?”

Bergara’s shoulders hunch in defensively. “I _know_. I wasn’t going to go far in. I’m not a complete idiot. I only walked for about three minutes, but then...”

Shane waits, the seconds ticking by. “ _Then_?”

Bergara sighs again. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I already do, so just tell me.”

Bergara gives him a calculating look. Shane doesn’t back down, staring right back at him. “Fine,” he finally says. “But not here. Did they tell you when I can leave?”

“When you can _leave_? Bergara, I didn’t even know if you were going to _wake up_ today. Here I was, worried about you like an idiot, and you wake up cracking jokes, all hunky dory – ”

“Were you really that worried?” Bergara asks. His face is hesitant yet soft, like he can’t believe that Shane said something nice. It makes Shane’s heart flip.

Shane pushes away the impulse to deny it and says, “Yeah, you idiot. Of course I was.”

Bergara grins and says mockingly, “Awww, that’s sweet!”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Now why don’t you go be a good husband and ask when I can leave?”

“This is bullshit,” Shane says even he walks towards the door. He says over his shoulder, “I’m not some sort of man servant you can boss around just because you were dumb enough to get yourself in the hospital.”

He can hear Bergara laugh as he heads out the door.

***

“And then I just tripped,” Bergara tells Dr. Smith, shrugging one shoulder and giving her a smile that says _oops, so clumsy, what can you do?_ “Then I woke up here.”

Shane stands next to him, arms crossed, doing his best to resist rolling his eyes. Bergara is so full of shit, and Dr. Smith doesn't seem to buy it either. She glances at Shane and makes a note on her chart.

“So that's it?” she asks.

“Yup.”

She says, “Mr. Madej, could you please step outside? I need to speak to your husband alone.”

When Shane hesitates, Bergara smirks at him and says, “I'll be fine, _dear_.”

Shane feels his face heat up. He nods and rushes out of the room mostly in the hopes that perhaps Bergara won't notice.

He leans against the wall a few feet from Bergara's door. He tries not to look so out of place, but his height doesn't exactly let him hide.

He shouldn't feel so embarrassed about it. He reminds himself that the lie had been a snap second decision, and it had probably been the right one. He shouldn't feel like it's a big, sensitive target in the middle of his chest, but he does.

It's just... Bergara didn't have to say it _like that_ , like it's so horribly ridiculous. Does he think no one would ever marry Shane? Is the thought of Shane being someone's husband that ridiculous to him? Not that Shane should care what Bergara thinks, and _he doesn't_ – except that maybe he does, a little.

It's not fair that just went through one of the worst moments of his life, and Bergara gets to wake up, apparently perfectly fine, and then make fun of him.

Dr. Smith had definitely not bought Bergara's whole 'oh I decided to randomly go on a walk in the middle of the night without telling anyone' lie. She probably thinks their marriage is horribly fucked up. Bergara's probably in there convincing her that Shane is an awful husband and that he goes out for a walk every night just get away from him.

Shane frowns as he tries to get a hold of his thoughts. What should he care what Dr. Smith thinks about a nonexistent marriage? This is ridiculous.

The door opens and Dr. Smith waves for him to come back in. As soon as he steps into the room, she says, “Alright, we will discharge him at five.” She gives Shane one last look, like she's memorizing his face to describe to a police sketch artist later, before adding, “Have a good afternoon, gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” Shane says and waits for her to close the door behind her before turning to Bergara, eyes narrowed. “What did you tell her?”

Bergara gives him another wry smile. “That my husband would never try to murder me, and that I did indeed trip. I think she bought it.”

“I resent both that I was presumed to be an attempted murdered and that she thought I couldn't actually finish the job.”

Bergara snorts out a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, what a great tragedy that is for us all. Now, can you go get the car? It's about ten minutes east of The Five's cabin.”

“Okay,” Shane says hesitantly, crossing his arms. “So they're just going to let you go? Shouldn't they perform more tests?”

“I'm fine.”

“I wouldn't call sleeping for an insane amount without waking up fine.”

“Are you my husband or are you my mom?”

“I – I'm – you're – shut up, I'm just _saying_.”

“I'm fine,” he says again dismissively.

“Speaking of moms,” Shane says, trying to sound casual as he goes and gets the car keys from the plastic bag he'd left behind on the chair, “your mother called.”

“Oh." Bergara frowns, all trace of his haughty mocking gone. _Good_. “Okay,” he says carefully, like he senses a trap.

“I answered.”

“...Oh.” His frown deepens as he asks, “What did she say?”

“It was an interesting conversation, actually. She apparently knows my full name.”

Bergara doesn't say anything. He just looks up at Shane, arms crossed, an almost defiant set of his shoulders.

Shane continues, “I think she got the impression that you and I were fucking.”

“ _What_? Why?” he demands to know, and Shane finally grins, feeling for once like he's not at a complete loss, like he has a bit of an upper hand again.

“Well, I answered your phone and told her you were asleep,” Shane says, grabbing the keys and starting to walk towards the door. “And she sounded very nice so I didn't wanna worry her by telling her _why_ you couldn't answer, so.” He shrugs. “She kinda connected the dots.”

“This isn't funny,” Bergara complains.

“Not trying to be. You should call her back.”

Bergara quickly snatches his phone from where it was laying on the bedside table, and Shane makes his escape.

***

Bergara rolls his eyes as Shane opens the car door for him. “I’m not made out of glass you know.”

“Yeah, and I’m not the one being released from the goddamn hospital. Quit complaining, and get in.”

Bergara does, though he mutters to himself, “I can’t believe I’m being told to get into my own car.”

Shane chooses to ignore him and closes the door before going and getting into the driver’s side. In a just world, ownership of this car would automatically transfer to Shane after he took an Uber and rescued it from the side of the road where Bergara had abandoned it.

They drive in silence. It’s only 5:27PM, but Shane feels completely exhausted. Still, he says, “So. You wanna tell me what happened?”

Bergara stays quiet. When Shane steals a glance at him, he’s looking down at his hands. Shane's just starting to think that maybe he’ll refuse to answer when he says, “I’m still kind of processing it. It’s… I mean, I _know_ it happened, but… It’s hard to believe, which is why I know you won’t believe me.”

“What, did you catch them in the middle of an orgy or something?” Shane chuckles at his own dumb joke, but when Bergara doesn’t reply, he says, “No, seriously, did you?”

“ _No_ , you idiot. Of course not.”

“Well then what?”

“I… Look, I know how this is going to sound, but I’m not lying. I...I saw a spaceship.”

“Ha ha, yeah, spaceships, aliens, orgies. Good bit. Now seriously, what happened?”

“That is what happened! Not the orgy part, obviously, because that’s fucking stupid. I was just about to go back to the car when I saw a bright bluish light through the trees. I thought it could be them, so I walked towards it. And it was just _there_. Just a giant spaceship hovering in a clearing. Seeing it was just… I mean, I always assumed that if something like that ever happened I would _run_ , but it was like I couldn’t. I didn’t even want to. I just felt really calm and...and safe? Like I somehow knew it wasn't going to hurt me. The last thing I remember was watching it start to go up and feeling like I was being lifted up too, and then it all went black.”

“Okay,” Shane says, letting Bergara’s words sink in and trying to ignore the worry that has suddenly invaded his stomach. His hands tighten their grip on the wheel. “So you...you think you were abducted?”

Bergara sighs. “I knew you weren’t going to believe me. Look I wasn’t – or at least I don’t _think_ I was abducted. I must’ve just gotten caught in some sort of gravitational pull or something. I have scratches so I must have fallen when they took off. But don't you see what this means? I was _right_.”

Another glance at Bergara tells Shane that he’s serious. God, so it finally happened. Shane had always joked it would, but he hadn’t actually believed it. Bergara really has lost his mind. Whatever this hallucination is, whatever break from reality, Shane should really just take him back to the hospital. He needs to be evaluated and helped.

He says, trying his best to sound gentle, “Look, you’re a pretty jittery guy. Maybe you did just trip and had a very vivid dream.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude, seriously. I know what I saw, and I didn’t just – just imagine it or suddenly go crazy.”

“Ryan – ”

“No, don’t you fucking say my name like you pity me, _Shane_. The description matched exactly what Garrett said, what countless other people have said. It all ligns up.”

“Mass hysteria often – ”

“Oh my god, if you bring up those fucking people in France one more time, I really will go crazy!”

Shane comes to a stop at a red light and turns to look at Bergara. He’s glaring at Shane, ready to fight and defend his insane position like always. Shane can feel his own worry starting to morph into anger too. Anger at Bergara for making him worry. Anger for making Shane the bad guy when he’s just fucking trying to help. He knows just what buttons to push, what words will hurt the most.

They glare at each other, neither giving in, until the light turns green. Then Shane sighs and keeps driving.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay, if that’s what you think you saw, then arguing about it won’t change your mind.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

“No. There’s probably a rational explanation for what happened last night, but we can deal with that tomorrow. You’re not planning on running off into the woods again tonight, are you? Because I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

“No. Not tonight, at least.”

“Funny,” Shane says darkly and keeps driving.

***

Shane can’t sleep. Any little noise startles him, every cell in his body ready to jump and catch Bergara trying to sneak out again. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Bergara getting sucked up by a blue light, taken forever.

He thinks of Johanna's boyfriend Garrett and suddenly feels a new sense of sympathy. This is probably only a fraction of what he must be feeling. At least Bergara is back. At least Shane doesn't have to worry about where he could be, how many days he's been missing, what could be happening to him.

A spaceship hallucination seems small in comparison.

Shane had insisted that Bergara take the bedroom, but the pullout couch isn’t comfortable. He keeps tossing and turning and thinking.

He should really be more angry at Bergara for dragging Shane into this mess. At the very least, he should not feel this worried about him still. But instead, a nagging feeling keeps poking at him, insisting that he go check up on him. _It’s absurd_. Bergara is a grown man, for god’s sake. Shane has absolutely no control or responsibility over his actions.

He resists the feeling as long as he can, which is an impressive hour and a half, before rolling his eyes at himself and giving in. He grabs a pillow and some blankets and quietly opens the door to the bedroom.

Shane can make out the shape of Bergara on the bed. Shane instantly feels a rush of gratification hearing Bergara’s quiet, familiar breathing.

He’s here. He’s safe.

Bergara doesn’t stir at all as Shane steps into the room. _I can’t believe you’re making me do this, asshole_ , Shane thinks as he arranges the blanket and pillow on the floor next to the bed.

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep after that.

***

“Hey. Hey, Madej.”

He opens his eyes and sees Bergara peering over the bed down at him. He looks amused, like he's holding back laughter, and Shane frowns at him out of habit. “What?”

“Uh, what are you doing sleeping on the floor?”

Shane sits up and pretends to look around, confused. “Huh. I must have slept walked here.”

“Since when do you sleep walk?”

“Since always.”

Bergara rolls his eyes and says, “Alright, sure. Whatever.” Shane’s about to argue that really, this is all Bergara’s fault and also Shane had been very nice letting him take the bed and not to mention that the couch is uncomfortable – but Bergara shoots him an amused smile before getting out of bed. “Want coffee?”

Shane blinks, mind blank for a second as his brain deletes everything he'd planned to say. “Uh, sure,” he manages.

Shane watches as Bergara leaves the room.

Well then.

He waits for a second, hoping his brain will come back online, before following him out and sitting down at the small kitchen table.

_This is weird_ , Shane thinks, watching as Bergara prepares a pot of coffee.

There's something too intimate about it that makes his stomach feel almost queasy and nervous, though not necessarily in a bad way. Bergara’s hair is messy, his t-shirt rumpled from being slept in. He looks sleep soft and Shane feels an ember of that burning feeling from the hospital, that urge to reach out and touch.

What would it even be like to run a hand over Bergara's back? To settle his hair into place? To wrap his arms around his waist, press him close?

The thoughts leave an ache in his chest, and Shane has to look away.

These are just... They're probably left-over sentimental feelings brought on by too many hours of pretending to be married yesterday. Perhaps he took the role too seriously. He was tired; he was worried.

He shouldn't even dwell on it. After all, it certainly won't be Shane that gets to wake up to this every day: coffee, breakfast, a sleepy Ryan Bergara. No, it'll be someone else, perhaps that mystery crush guy, who will get to press a kiss to Bergaras cheek and lean against him on mornings like these.

Shane frowns. At least it’s not Jenkins.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as Bergara sets a mug full of coffee in front of him and sits down on the other chair with his own mug.

“Pretty good, all things considered. I'm not about to collapse, despite what you seem to think.”

Shane raises a skeptical eyebrow but doesn't push it. Instead he asks the more important question: “Have you talked to Elizondo yet?”

“Yeah. He caught wind that I was in the hospital and called while you were getting the car.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The official story. That I fell.” Bergara clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his own mug as he says, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone what I told you.”

Shane feels himself freeze for a second. He shouldn’t make this promise. Bergara clearly needs some sort of counseling, some help for his...whatever it is that is making him think he saw a goddamn spaceship. Shane shouldn’t be lying and keeping secrets for him. Shane should tell Elizondo and force him to get some help.

But Bergara glances up at him nervously, doubt and trepidation clear in his eyes. Shane looks away. He has his answer. “Okay. I won’t, but on one condition.”

“What?”

“We need to go home, and you need to rest.”

Bergara’s shoulders relax, that amused smile back on his lips. “Yeah, alright. The Five left town anyway. Seems I freaked them out, and they didn't wanna stay longer.”

Shane smiles back, can't help himself as he teases, “You? Off-putting?”

Bergara laughs and kicks at Shane’s leg under the table. “Fuck you,” he says, but there’s no heat to it. "At least we got pretty close.”

“Too close.”

“Maybe. I still think that if I’d had the chance to talk to them...” He sighs and shrugs one shoulder. “I guess it doesn't matter now. I know what I saw, and I know I was right. Hopefully the next guy will have better luck with them."

Shane frowns. “What next guy? Is Elizondo taking you off the case?

Bergara shakes his head. Shane can tell he's trying to sound casual as he says, “No, I'm leaving."

"Like on vacation or something?" Shane asks, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach that already knows that's not it.

Bergara's gaze is somewhere over Shane's shoulder as he says, “I’m moving. I head back to L.A. in August.”

“Oh.” Shane feels stunned. He had never considered this. He swallows hard, a sudden and overwhelming feeling leaking into his chest that he can't quite identify. “Why?”

Bergara gives him a contemplative look, like he’s deciding if Shane can be trusted with the information. He finally says, “I got a job offer. It’s, uh, it’s this private organization called To the Stars Academy of Arts and Science. I’ll be making videos again, investigations and things like that – well, except with people who'll actually believe me and won’t think I’m insane.”

“But what about…” _Me_ , Shane thinks, but it sounds too pathetic even in his head. People don’t build their lives around their worst enemies, despite Shane being dumb enough to do just that. “I mean,” he tries again, “you could get another job in town. You’ve got your whole life set up in D.C., haven’t you?”

“Not really. Too much of a workaholic to have made any real friends and all of my family is in California, so I don’t really have anyone there. The only reason that I even stayed for this long is because...” He shrugs and laughs, a short, embarrassed sound. “I don’t even know why.”

Shane can take a guess. A gloomy feeling enters his stomach as he says, “Hoping that guy from work would like you back?”

Another short laugh. “Maybe. But that’s never going to work out, no matter what Curly says, so. It’s just time to move on.”

Shane takes a sip of his coffee, not caring that it’s still too hot. It feels slightly unreal, sitting here, not arguing, being told that soon Bergara will be gone. He doesn’t know what to say. He had never really considered the possibility of Bergara leaving despite having loudly proclaimed wanting to get rid of him plenty of times.

He says the first acceptable thought that pops into his head, “I bet your mom will be glad to have you back."

"Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” Bergara gives him another kick. “She keeps insisting I'm not telling her the truth."

"You're welcome," Shane forces himself to say with a blithe lightness he doesn't feel. "It was either that or tell her you were hospitalized. Seems like I'm the only one that cares about her feelings."

Bergara scoffs but then gives Shane a smile that's bordering on fond, and Shane has to look away, heart flipping painfully.

Shane wonders what Bergara told his mother, what dismissive excuse he gave for Shane being there. How did she know Shane's name? What has Bergara said about him? What does she think of him? He doesn't dare ask, too afraid of the possible answers. Instead he says, "Must've been tough for her. D.C. and L.A. have completely different time zones and everything.”

"Yeah, they’re pretty far apart. Do I need to show you how a globe works? Shouldn’t you already know that as a scientist?”

Shane huffs out a laugh despite himself. “I was absent that day. Plus I hear the world is flat, anyway.”

“You shock me, sir. You really are a conspiracy theorist now.”

“It’s the atrocious company I’ve been keeping. You’re the one that made me sit through a presentation about _Underwater_ Area 51.”

Bergara bursts out laughing. “Oh god! I’d forgotten about that one, yeah. Um, well now that I’m quitting I guess I can tell you that I just put that in there to piss you off.”

“I knew it! I knew it, _you asshole_!”

Bergara just laughs some more, completely unrepentant, and Shane can’t help but smile.

***

It feels strange to put his suitcase in the back seat knowing there won’t be another town, another motel. He’ll get to sleep in his own bed again without Bergara being just a few feet away. _Good_ , he forces himself to think and pushes away whatever it is that is gripping at the inside of his chest.

Shane insists on driving. Bergara rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

Not that there isn’t bickering, because it’s an eight hour long trip and it’s _them_ , so of course there is. But it’s about stupid things like what the best Tom Cruise movie is ( _Mission Impossible: Fallout_ ) and whether cats are connected to the supernatural (they’re not).

They even manage to have a strangely pleasant dinner where they talk about true crime documentaries which somehow leads them to talking about the best way to make popcorn. Shane watches as Bergara wheezes out a laugh, smile bright in that way that Shane still isn’t used to. It’s strange, and that must be the reason that his stomach feels weirdly light any time that Bergara laughs at Shane’s dumb jokes.

It's almost easy to ignore all of the unpleasant thoughts that surround them. Bergara's company by now just feels normal, and he can ignore what Bergara thinks he saw in the woods. How Bergara will be gone soon. How they might never see each other again. He can ignore the thought that Shane wouldn’t even _mind_ seeing him again. That he maybe kind of wants to.

Not that they’re friends now – god, of course not. Shane hates him. Shane has always hated him, and just because Shane got used to him doesn’t change that. But maybe if Bergara wasn’t leaving, Shane could’ve had more time to force him to watch _MI: Fallout_ properly. Maybe then Shane wouldn’t feel like he’s running out of time.

Trapped for eight hours in a car with Bergara should’ve been torture, but time flew so quickly that he’s surprised when he parks the car in front of his apartment building. He gives Bergara a considering look and says, “Are you sure you can drive to your place from here?”

“ _Yes_ , as I keep telling you. I’m completely fine.”

Shane scans his face, illuminated by the streetlight, and tries to memorize it in this moment. This is the Ryan Bergara that wears t-shirts instead of suits and laughs at Shane’s awful jokes. He doesn’t know how to say goodbye, so Shane says instead, “Well if you crash and die, hit me up. I’d love to see a ghost.”

Bergara snorts. “Even if I did, you’d just be all, _oh it’s all a bunch of Hollywood special effects, this is a bunch of horseshit_.”

Shane tries to suppress a smile as he says, “That’s a terrible impression of me,” and gets out of the car.

He waits by the car door as Bergara gets out and walks around. Waits until he’s right in front of him to say, “Seriously, take it easy. Get some rest.”

Bergara tilts his head up, defiant, but his voice is soft as he says, “You’re not the boss of me.”

Shane stares back. They’re standing close together, he realizes. If anyone were to look at them right now, they would think...

“Get some rest,” he repeats. “Sleep like a normal human.”

Bergara smiles, and Shane feels that lightness in his stomach again. Bergara says, “You’re not a real doctor, you know.”

“Goodnight, _Ryan_.”

“Night, Shane,” Bergara says but doesn’t look away or move away, and Shane think, _Are we going to…?_

A second ticks by.

Two.

Three.

Shane takes a step to the side to be able to grab his suitcase from the backseat. He doesn’t dare look directly at Bergara as he heads towards his apartment. He faintly hears the sound of a car door closing, and he doesn’t let himself pause at the door of the building.

_What was that?_

***

Andrew’s eyes feel heavy, his brain hypnotized by the road in front of them. Jen’s at the wheel. She’s good at driving at night, even in these pitch-black country roads at ungodly hours.

Maya, Daysha, and Steven are asleep in the back. The radio stopped working a couple of months ago. None of them know how to fix it. The silence feels unsettling.

Johanna could’ve probably figured out how to fix it. Andrew doesn’t like to think about what will happen when the van inevitably needs a mechanic again. Their funds are low as it is. He knows that everyone hopes that they’ll be long gone before that happens, but he has his doubts.

He’s always had doubts.

Jen breaks him out of his thoughts by asking, “You've been keeping an eye on it, right?”

“Yeah, nothing new. I don’t think they’re coming after us for it.”

Jen breathes a sigh of relief, though he knows she'll continue to carry the weight on her shoulders. She’s never been one to put responsibility down, and even though it had been Maya that insisted on them dumping that agent in the hospital, Jen had the final word.

Jen always has the final word. It’s not a job that any of them envy.

They fall into silence again.

Another ten minutes pass before she asks, voice soft and worried, “Can’t sleep?” When Andrew looks away from the road and towards her, she’s frowning, concerned.

“No,” he says honestly.

She sighs but doesn’t ask why.

It’s the same reason that Steven has nightmares, and Daysha has constant headaches. Andrew fears that little by little they’re falling apart, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud. He can’t. Just like he can’t suggest that maybe they stick around longer in a town, give up this nomadic life, pretend to be normal.

The only person he ever talked about that with is gone now.

Johanna leaving them had felt like a punch to the stomach. When he closes his eyes, he can still see her walking away, her yellow backpack swung over one shoulder, off to her new life that didn’t include them in it. They’d been filled with grief. They’d been angry.

And Andrew feels guilty, sometimes, knowing that the two of them had been the weakest links. He wonders if maybe he'd had more faith, if maybe he hadn’t told her his doubts, maybe she would’ve stayed. Maybe things would’ve turned out different. Maybe they would all be together still.

Andrew turns around in his seat, his eyes instantly looking for Steven, but it’s too dark to properly get a good look. Still, knowing he’s there makes him feel at least a little better.

“Do you think she was happy?” he asks, only daring to voice this question here in the darkness and the stillness. It had been banging around in his head, and he could never come up with an answer. “With her Earth life, I mean.”

Jen doesn’t take her eyes from the road, but he can see her thinking. Jen has always had the answers, the ideas, the courage. She finally says, “She must've been, right? She didn’t even want to see us. Her new life must’ve been nice enough to protect from us.”

Andrew swallows around the bitter memory. Steven yelling at Johanna. Daysha trying to be the peace keeper as always. Maya crying. He remembers trying to calm Steven down that night, after her boyfriend had come home and they’d been promptly shown the door.

Steven, who has never for one second doubted.

Steven, who would never agree to give up and stop searching. Whom Andrew could not leave behind. He’s not strong like Johanna. Or cruel enough.

It’s close to three in the morning when Andrew says, “Maybe we should stop for the night.”

“I can do another thirty minutes.”

He doesn’t argue. His eyelids feel heavier and heavier. His body aches to lie down and sleep. The road doesn’t make sense anymore as his eyes struggle to stay open. It all melts together as his brain starts losing the fight.

Their phone ringing violently jerks him awake, making even Jen swerve in surprise. Andrew has to blink a few times to even get his brain to process that _yes_ , it’s really ringing.

They only have one cell-phone. No one else has their number.

He locks eyes with Jen before reaching down to pick it up. Unknown number from an area code he doesn’t recognize. When he looks back to Jen, she nods at him to answer.

He hesitates before accepting the call.

His heart stops when he recognizes the voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Shane wakes up in his own bed feeling like he hardly slept at all. He groans as he gets up, his body still a bit achy from the long drive yesterday. Then he groans again as his brain reminds him what happened the night before.

It’s absurd. Really, Shane would laugh if he wasn’t so busy freaking out. It’s ridiculous, completely _preposterous_ – yet Shane can’t deny it. Not when he had entered his apartment last night, heart racing, fully aware of the fact that he had _wanted_ to kiss Bergara.

Had they really almost kissed? Had Shane imagined it? Would Bergara have let him?

Fuck, this is bad. This is _crazy_. Shane gets ready for work, but he can hardly focus. He burns his breakfast which makes him think of what Bergara would say about his cooking skills. Probably something snarky, eyebrows raised, always challenging him, “Can’t even fry an egg, huh?” It makes Shane chuckle before a pang of desolation settles somewhere in his ribs, and _oh god_ , does he _miss_ him?

_This is very, very bad_ , Shane thinks as he walks into work and sits down at his desk, and he doesn’t even notice when Brent walks over to him. He jumps when Brent puts a hand on his shoulder.

Brent laughs and says, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Shane laughs, fake and forced, his stomach cringing as he hears himself. “No yeah, it’s fine, um. I was just spacing out a bit.”

“First day back from your two week vacation, and you’re already slacking.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Hardly a vacation.”

“Yeah?” Brent leans on Shane’s desk, obviously settling in for some gossip. “So how was it?”

“It was…” Shane scrambles around in his brain, trying and failing to arrange his thoughts into something coherent. _Confusing, strange, weirdly fun, horrifying, great, bad, and I might’ve developed some sort of weird Stockholm Syndrome from it_. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Brent frowns at him and repeats incredulously, “ _Fine?_ ”

Shane shrugs. “Yeah.”

Brent looks genuinely concerned now. He slowly reaches over and pokes at Shane’s shoulder and then pokes at his cheek before Shane slaps his hand away. “Just making sure you weren’t some sort of alien pod person. I’m not sure the real Shane Madej would call spending time with Agent Ryan 'the enemy of truth' Bergara ‘fine.’ I was ready to put up with an all day complaining parade about him.”

Shane averts his eyes and shrugs again. “I’ll perform it for you later. I’m just tired. Hey, have you seen Carl? I need to yell at him about this report.”

Brent doesn’t point out Shane’s clumsy attempt at changing the subject, and even though he keeps shooting Shane concerned looks, he doesn’t bring it up again. Which _thank god_ , because Shane can barely make sense of it in his own head.

The day goes by pretty fast as he tries to catch up on all the things he missed while he was gone. He even manages to go a couple of hours without thinking about Bergara, though the victory is short lived.

Being unable to stop thinking about Bergara isn’t something new, exactly. Shane has a lot of experience in spending hours thinking about him – thinking, plotting, complaining. This feeling in his stomach, however, is new and terrifying.

It’s there as he leaves work late and as he gets home and as he stares at his empty fridge. It’s worse as he goes to grab some groceries and remembers when they got groceries together.

He manages to get through the next two work days but just barely.

It just doesn’t make sense. Each day he expects to wake up and realize that it had all been some sort of strange dream or some weird side effect from all the time spent together. He expects to go back to the usual routine of feeling frustration and annoyance whenever he thinks of Bergara, but it’s useless.

Instead, he can’t stop wondering if Bergara’s feeling alright, if he slept well, what it would’ve been like to kiss him. What it would be like to do more than just kiss him.

Even more pathetically, Shane keeps checking his phone, hoping Bergara will reach out in some way. He keeps telling himself to stop, but he can’t help the stupid spark of hope he gets whenever he has a new message or call.

It’s never him.

Which is fine – _it’s fine_ , really. It’s good, even. Clearly Shane is having some sort of emotional imbalance that he has to work through. He’s gonna snap out of it. Any day now he will be able to go more than 24 hours without googling his name just to make sure there are no reports of him having run away to join the cult.

Friday is the 4th of July, and Shane regrets turning down invitations to go out. The thought of hanging out and eating hot dogs and pretending like everything was fine had seemed unbearable, but now, forced to be alone with his thoughts all day, staying home seems worse. He thinks about calling his boss and begging her to let him come in to work, but in the end he just goes on a cleaning spree.

His apartment is spotless by the early afternoon, his sock drawer rearranged, and the junk drawer emptied out. It’s only then that he finally decides to empty out his suitcase. He’d been avoiding it at all week – too scared of stirring up even more thoughts of Bergara – but if he’s going to do laundry, he might as well do it now.

He spots it as soon as he dumps everything out on the floor, there among the other shirts Shane had carelessly grabbed and stuffed into the suitcase as they hurried to get going. A gray t-shirt that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. Bergara’s t-shirt.

He picks it up, momentarily transfixed. There it is again, that sudden ache in his stomach, that annoying feeling like he _misses_ him.

“This is stupid,” he says out loud, hoping to convince himself as he sorts everything by color and starts doing some laundry.

_So, so stupid_ , he thinks as he folds it up, still warm out of the dryer, and places it on top of his dresser. He finishes putting up his clothes, painfully aware of the way his eyes keep glancing at the shirt.

He knows he shouldn’t. Sure, the t-shirt is a decent excuse to see him, but it would be dangerous and too pathetic to actually go through with it. He doesn’t even know where Bergara lives; Bergara has always been the one to pick him up. Although, Brent did once mention going to his apartment to drop off some report...

He spends some time making soup and telling himself he won’t actually do it. He shouldn’t. It would probably be disastrous. Humiliating, even. Going there would be caving; it would be admitting that he, for some fucked up reason beyond human comprehension, _wants_ to see him. He shouldn’t.

But even as he berates himself, even as he considers all of the terrible things that could come from this, even as he tells himself that he doesn’t actually want this, deep in his gut he knows he’s gonna fucking do it anyway.

It’s getting dark out when he finally gives up pretending and texts Brent: **You’ve been to Bergara’s apartment before right? Still remember his address?**

**Brent: Why? You gonna sabotage his place or something?**

**Shane: No!! Do you seriously think I’d do that?**

**Brent: Idk dude, you’ve been so weird since you came back. What the hell happened with you two?**

**Shane: I’m always weird. Nothing happened. ADDRESS!!! Do you have it?**

**Brent: I do but I don’t wanna end up on the news as an accomplice**

Shane sighs. A month ago, Brent might’ve been right. But a month ago Shane didn’t think about what it would be like to kiss Ryan Bergara. A month ago Shane didn’t have to worry about calling him and the possibility that he won’t answer or that he won’t want to see Shane again or – even scarier – that he would. Shane didn’t have to worry about the possibility of never seeing him again and being stuck with his stupid t-shirt, and Shane _refuses_ to keep it tucked away in his drawer where it will forever haunt him.

**Shane: I’ll help with your grant proposal and buy you lunch all next week**

**Brent: Hmmmmmmmm. Throw in your cat calendar and you’ve got yourself a deal**

Shane squawks in indignation as Brent then sends a row of sunglasses emojis, but he still types back: **Deal**

*******

_It’s not too late,_ he thinks as he sits in the parking lot of Bergara’s building. He’s been telling himself that ever since he got in his car, since the drive over here. It’s the 4th of July; maybe Bergara won’t even be here. Maybe he’ll be out, partying it up as a goodbye to D.C. while Shane is pathetically knocking on his door. It’s reckless and stupid to show up like this.

_Turn around, turn around, turn around_ , he tells himself as he walks up the stairs to Bergara’s apartment, holding a container full of soup in one hand and his stupid shirt in the other.

But the thrill he feels in his stomach at the thought of seeing Bergara again makes him ring the doorbell.

_This is bad, this is bad, good god, this is a spectacularly bad idea –_

Bergara opens the door, face showing surprise and then confusion. “Madej?”

“Yeah,” Shane says. Bergara’s wearing shorts and a baggy t-shirt, hair slightly damp. Seeing him like this short circuits Shane’s brain, and his limbs suddenly feel clumsy and awkward as he tries to think of something to say.

“What are you doing here? Wait, how do you even know where I live?”

“Uh, Brent told me.”

Bergara frowns. “Brent sure has been telling you a lot of stuff about me recently.”

“Yeah, he sure is a blabber mouth. Can’t keep a secret to save his life. Um, I’m here because one of your shirts ended up in my suitcase, and I just wanted to return it,” he says, extending the shirt towards Bergara

“Thanks.” He grabs it and says, “I thought I’d left it back at the cabin.”

“Nope, it just snuck in with my stuff.”

“Well, thanks for dropping it off.”

“You’re welcome.”

_Good god, get it together_ , Shane thinks, shoving away the nervous feeling in his stomach. It’s just Bergara! They’ve spent countless hours alone by now; he shouldn’t feel like some middle schooler picking up his first date. Fuck, what is Shane doing here? Bergara is staring at him now, and yeah, this was definitely a mistake and he should just say bye and leave and then Bergara will move across the country and that will be that forever.

But Bergara points to the container and asks, “What’s that?”

“Oh, um.” God, this was such a stupid idea. “I... I brought you soup.”

“You...made me soup?” Bergara’s got a smile on his face like he thinks it’s very funny, and Shane is grateful for the flash of annoyance he feels, a distraction from the nervousness.

Shane rolls his eyes. “Okay, it’s not that big of a deal or anything. It took ten seconds, and you were in the hospital – it’s just the polite thing to do.”

Bergara laughs. “Sure, if you want to pretend like it’s not weird then we can do that.”

“Are you going to invite me in or what? You’re being really rude, you know.”

“Am I? Cause some would say that showing up unexpected is much more rude, but sure, I guess you can come in.”

Bergara’s apartment is rather small, and it looks even smaller with all of the boxes that are scattered around, most of them full. Shane wonders what this place looked like before, if anything had been up on the walls. He had always suspected that Bergara’s home would have some sort of serial-killer-like shrine to aliens, and he’s slightly disappointed that he can’t prove his theory right.

Bergara leads them to the kitchen where he puts the shirt on the counter and takes the soup from Shane and puts it in the fridge. Shane stands awkwardly next to him, arms crossed.

Shane clears his throat and asks, “So. How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“No special plans for tonight?”

There’s a small, teasing smile on Bergara’s face as he says, “Do I look like I’m heading out for a party?”

Shane shrugs. “The night is young. Who am I to judge what you wear out on the town?”

Bergara rolls his eyes, but he laughs, a soft, amused sound. “You caught me on a typical night in. Just gonna ignore whatever illegal fireworks might get set off around the neighborhood.” He gives Shane a sweeping glance, taking in his best jeans and pink button-down, and frowns slightly. “You have any special plans?”

“Uh, not really.” If Shane had more to say, it’s completely forgotten as Bergara leans against the counter, and Shane’s heart skips a beat at the sight. He looks good. It’s distracting, and Shane has to force himself to stutter out, “So how, um, how are the – y’know the case. How is it?”

Bergara looks dejected as he shrugs a shoulder. “The Five are in Nevada right now. No other leads on Johanna. It’s looking like her disappearance will go unsolved.”

“And you haven’t had any other...alien visions?”

Bergara gives him an unimpressed look. “No, because I don’t have the shining. What I saw was real, regardless of whether you believe me or not.”

“Okay, okay, sure. If you want to believe that – ”

“Did you seriously come here just to be all condescending?”

“No, I’m not being condescending. Look, I believe that you believe you saw it.”

Bergara rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks. I don’t even know why I’m surprised that you’re being an asshole. That’s your default mode.”

“Me?” Shane frowns, his pulse picking up like it always fucking does during their stupid arguments. “I’m trying to be _nice_ to you. I can’t know what happened that night, but what’s more likely, that you really saw a UFO or that you just hit your head and had a vivid dream?”

“I know what I saw! If you could just open your mind a little, just enough to _maybe_ consider that you don’t know everything in the goddamn universe – ”

“It just doesn’t make any sense!”

“Things don’t always make sense!”

Shane groans. “Don’t you ever listen to yourself?”

Bergara steps closer, glaring at him. Shane resists the urge to take a step back, ignoring the thrilling sensation in his stomach. This part is at least familiar. This part they’re good at. He glares back at Bergara.

“Every single time,” Bergara says, voice dangerously low, “that I think _maybe_ you’re not the world’s biggest asshole, that _maybe_ we can be civil, you just have to go and ruin it. Why are you even here, Madej? You don’t have to deal with me anymore if you hate it so much, so why the fuck are you in my apartment?”

“I…” Shane can’t focus, his brain hopelessly broken from how close Bergara is standing, the heat of his body and his gaze. He doesn’t have an answer. “I don’t know.”

“Then maybe you should just go. Thanks for the soup.”

Bergara takes a step back, but Shane’s hand instantly reaches out to grab his arm to keep him in place. “Wait,” Shane says, heart racing.

“What?” Bergara’s still glaring at him. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, okay? I’m fucking tired of it.”

“I don’t want to fight either. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to be an asshole, I promise. I just…” He takes a deep breath, trying his best to find a balance between honesty and insanity. “I really did come here just to make sure you were okay.”

Bergara deflates just a little, some of the fight gone. Shane lets go of his arm and tries to ignore how his hand feels warm from having touched his skin. Bergara looks at him, an intensity in his eyes as he studies Shane’s face. Then he laughs, breathy and desperate.

He says in a low voice, “I don’t get it. I just _don’t_ _get it_. What is it about you that makes me feel like I’m going crazy?”

Shane holds his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I really hate you, Madej,” he says, making Shane’s heart sink to his stomach. “More than I’ve ever hated anyone. You make me feel so stupid and tongue-tied, but the worst thing? The worst thing is that despite that, I’m still glad you’re here.”

“You are?” Shane says dumbly, his brain trying to keep up.

“Unfortunately. For reasons I’ll never be able to understand.”

It’s a bad idea, but Shane still cups Bergara’s jaw with his hands and kisses him. Bergara freezes for one terrifying second before kissing him back, hands going to Shane’s sides.

Kissing Ryan Bergara is nothing like Shane imagined and so much fucking better. His brain turns off the second Bergara’s tongue touches his, reducing him to just the feeling of their bodies touching. A thrilling shiver goes through him as Bergara’s hands travel down, stopping as they reach Shane’s belt.

Bergara pulls back from the kiss, despite Shane trying his best to follow. He puts a hand on Shane’s chest and says, “Wait, stop – what the fuck are you doing?”

“What am _I –_ I thought it was obvious!”

“Fuck,” Bergara says, running a hand over his face, as he takes another step back from Shane. “ _Fuck_ , this is not happening.”

Shane takes a small step towards him. Maybe this shouldn’t be happening, maybe this was a mistake, but it’s one Shane came here to make. He takes another step, heart thumping in his chest as Bergara looks up at him, and Shane can _see it_. He wants this too.

And maybe that’s what makes him reach out and grab Bergara’s hips. Pull him closer. He comes willingly.

The kiss this time is even more frantic. Shane feels like he can’t get close enough, stomach flipping with excitement. _Fuck, this is so good, this is so good, this is so good_. Bergara’s lips, his hands, his _tongue_. This feels like the rush of all of their stupid arguments, _but better_ , like a culmination, like getting to finally scratch an itch you hadn’t been able to before. Shane’s hands find their way up Bergara’s t-shirt, touching warm skin, and the way Bergara groans into his mouth unfurls a fire in Shane’s stomach.

Bergara pulls back from the kiss, just enough to catch a gasping breath, Shane’s hands keeping him in place. Bergara says, “Are we – are we really doing this?”

Shane nods, not daring to speak, fearing he’ll fuck this up. There are hundreds of reasons why they shouldn’t, but none of them are as convincing as the way Bergara looks in this moment, lips invitingly red.

“Okay,” Bergara says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “Okay but – just this once.”

“Just this once,” Shane agrees and pulls him back in.

***

It’s hard to get undressed without disconnecting their mouths from each other for more than two seconds, but they manage to at least get their shirts off as they stumble into Bergara’s bedroom.

Shane gets Bergara under him as they reach the bed. Bergara’s hands burn as they slide down Shane’s back. Shane feels breathless, feels fucking _crazed_. He wants too much, too fast, and it’s dizzying.

But there’s still a hint of hesitation to Bergara, a pause before his hands move, a stillness as he lays under him. Shane wants him to lose his mind with him. He wants Bergara to be all in.

“I’m gonna...” Shane says, gesturing towards Bergara’s crotch. He figures Bergara might need a warning, gives him a small out before things get too out of hand, but Bergara fucking _laughs_ , a little breathless and incredulous.

Bergara says, “Yeah, that’s kinda the point.”

“Shut up,” Shane says in fake annoyance as he leans down for another kiss. He can feel Bergara smiling into it.

And maybe he feels a little stupid for asking and for getting laughed at, but that’s better than the hesitation he’d sensed earlier.

Bergara’s skin tastes clean as he makes his way down. He likes the way Bergara’s stomach tenses with every kiss he presses there, how Bergara’s breath hitches. He pulls off Bergara’s underwear and shorts at the same time, throwing them off to the side carelessly.

Shane hadn’t expected his own reaction to the sight of Bergara naked beneath him, hair messed up from where Shane had run his fingers through it. He looks so fucking good. Shane feels like his blood is on fire, his dick twitching in wholehearted approval.

His eyes meet Bergara’s as he bends down. He wants to make him feel so good. Bergara’s biting his bottom lip as Shane gives him a few strokes. A jolt of electricity goes down Shane’s spine as Bergara gives a helpless little moan, Shane watching him carefully.

Shane leans down, settling between Bergara’s spread legs. He keeps a hand on the base of him as he mouths along the underside before wrapping his lips around the head.

“Fuck,” Bergara says, and it just makes Shane preen.

Shane hasn’t done this in a while, his dry spell stretching out into years, but it’s all coming back to him, encouraged by the way Bergara is clearly trying to hold back sounds. Shane has to put an arm over Bergara’s hips as they begin to twitch. Bergara’s breathing has gone ragged.

Every little noise he manages to pull out of Bergara feels like a victory, and fuck, Shane had forgotten how much he liked this, pleasuring someone, making them lose themselves. And it’s so much fucking better knowing that it’s _Bergara_. Shane is the one making him lose control. Shane is the one making him feel like this.

Shane is so fucking hard, and he can’t stop himself from pressing down, his hips hoping to find some pleasure. He’s about to reach down to jerk himself off when he feels Bergara shift with purpose, pulling back.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” Bergara says and tugs gently on his hair to pull him up. When Shane looks up, Bergara looks wrecked, his lips red. He looks so fucking good. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“Okay,” Shane says, though it’s right at the tip of his tongue to say, _you could, we could break the rule, we could do it twice, three, five, ten times until we get it right._

Then Bergara is moving, opening up the nightstand drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom, and he’s saying, “Just fuck me.”

Shane’s mind goes blank, and he can’t disagree. He nods dumbly as he quickly stands up to unbutton his jeans and pull them off.

He keeps his eyes on Bergara, watching as he pours lube on his fingers. Shane stands, naked, hand automatically going to his own hard cock as he watches Bergara reach down and press in. _Holy shit_ , he thinks, hypnotized as he watches Bergara work himself open.

He’s biting his lip in concentration, fingers slowly moving in and out, and Shane is pretty sure he’s going to be jerking off to the memory of this for the rest of his life. It’s only when Bergara glances at him, eyes sweeping over him, that Shane’s brain comes back online and urges him to get closer.

Shane gets back on the bed and rolls on the condom, doing his best not to look away from Bergara for too long. He wants to grab him, wants to replace Bergara's fingers with his own. Wants to go back to making out as Shane slowly works him open, wants to take his time and have Bergara slowly come undone.

But he can’t. This isn’t – this isn’t _that_. Whatever Shane is feeling, it’s too tender, too feverish. It would probably make Bergara run for the hills, and that’s the last thing Shane wants.

Bergara says, “Quit staring, just come on, already.”

Shane raises his eyebrows, doing his best impression of whoever Shane used to be just a month ago, and says, “Eager, are we?”

Bergara shoots him a glare and sits up, only gets to say, “First of all, you –” before Shane is leaning forward and shutting him up with a kiss. He goes easily enough as Shane lays him back down, settling into place.

He goes soft-limbed, his legs spreading wider to accommodate Shane settling between them. And Shane ignores the urgency burning through him to instead focus on making sure Bergara can never forget this night. Shane needs him to remember every single detail, every moment. This memory can’t live on in Shane’s head alone.

He manages to slick himself up without detangling himself too much from Bergara. He lines himself up, heart racing in his chest, stomach tight with anticipation. He slides in slowly. Bergara’s so fucking hot and tight around him, and Shane has to remind himself to breathe.

Bergara’s mouth drops open, and he says, “Fuck, that’s – fuck, give me a second.”

Shane does, doing his very best to stay still. Bergara’s breathing hard under him, and Shane has to fight the urge to kiss his face, to reassure him that he’s here to give him whatever he needs. That’s not what this is. So he jokes instead, “First time, huh?”

And Bergara laughs, and says, “Shut up, I’m trying to adjust to your stupid sasquatch dick over here. Have some respect.”

It feels surreal to smile down at him, being _inside him_ , to have Bergara so close. “I could say so many things right now – “

“Spare me. I’m good, just – just go slow.”

Shane tries not to let it go to his head, tries to focus on the more important task at hand: making Bergara go crazy. He does start slow, taking in Bergara’s face, the look of concentration there as Shane carefully begins to rock his hips back and forth.

Shane had expected this to be fast, to be full of pent of resentment and anger, but he finds none of it as Bergara’s breath hitches and he holds on tight to Shane’s shoulder, like he’s anchoring himself.

Shane can’t stop himself from kissing him.

It feels different than any one night stand Shane has ever had. It feels important, and he is relieved and thrilled when Bergara moans, when his hands begin to move a little desperately along Shane’s body, as Bergara’s hips begin to meet his.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bergara mumbles, seemingly half lost, and Shane feels hungry for more sounds from him. He’s rewarded as he picks up the pace just the smallest bit. Just enough that Bergara gasps and then moans, head thrown back, and Shane has to bite at his neck.

God, there’s not enough oxygen going to his brain, and maybe that’s why he feels dizzy, almost weightless, as he keeps fucking into him. It’s so much, it’s so much, and Shane doesn’t want it to end. Shane’s never been the kind of guy who gets lost, who loses control and goes animalistic, but fuck, Bergara has always turned him into a brainless idiot. He should’ve known this is no different.

Shane can feel it, deep in his chest, a dumb caveman urge to make Bergara his, to make sure Bergara can’t possibly look at anyone else, to make sure no one even fucking dares to look at him. God, once isn’t enough, not when Shane needs to know more, needs to figure out all of the ways he can make Bergara come.

“Fuck, I’m – ” Bergara swallows hard, another weak moan breaking through. “I’m so close.”

Shane reaches between them, hand finding Bergara’s dick and stroking him. He watches greedily as Bergara’s mouth drops open, his eyes closing as he comes apart.

He’s so fucking tight around Shane, and it doesn’t take long for Shane to fall over the edge and come.

He leans down to steal one last kiss while he still can.

***

It’s not that Shane expected breakfast in bed the next morning. He knows damn well who he slept with. He knew there weren’t going to be any sappy declarations or promises. Still, he can’t ignore the pang of disappointment when he opens his eyes and sees that the other side of the bed is empty.

Of course.

Shane gets up and starts looking for his clothes. They’re still haphazardly thrown around the room. He tries not to think too much about last night as he puts them back on. His brain feels too tangled to even try to put things in order right now. He can't. Not here.

A carefully arranged row of sneakers along the wall by the closet catches his eye. He hadn’t noticed them last night. They look expensive and well taken care of. Shane stares for perhaps a second too long before he finally forces himself to huff out a laugh. He never would’ve thought of Bergara as a sneakerhead.

He wonders what he will do with his mental list of Bergara facts now. Will it just sit in his brain forever? Or will he slowly forget, each item on the list fading away and then vanishing? Somehow that latter option seems worse.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts as a distant beeping sound comes from the other side of the door. A startled, free-falling feeling swoops into his stomach. _Jesus, get it together_ , he thinks as he squares his shoulders and walks out of the bedroom.

They can be adults about this. They’ve never really been adults about anything, true, but they’ve also never fucked before either. Clearly new things are possible.

Bergara is in the kitchen, fiddling with the coffeemaker. He looks up and seems a bit thrown off as Shane walks up to him. Bergara’s dressed in his usual suit, hair tidy, so professional and serious looking that it instantly puts Shane on edge.

But then Bergara says, “Hey,” voice soft and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not hostile, not angry, not regretful. Shane has to hold back a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” Shane says back. Maybe this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe – whatever _this_ is – maybe they can see where it goes.

“I was just about to go wake you up. I, uh, I got called into the office. Elizondo apparently has some stuff he wants me to look over. He says it’s urgent, but – ” Bergara rolls his eyes and shrugs “–it’s probably just last minute stuff he didn’t finish and wants to dump on me.”

_Oh_. "Yeah, I should get going," Shane says quickly.

Bergara looks lost for a second, stammers out, "Oh, I thought – I was – um. Yeah, okay."

"You thought what?"

"No, nothing. But, about last night…" Bergara looks awkward as he shifts his weight and crosses his arms. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page. I never thought – I mean, I hope this won't bring any complications into our...professional relationship."

Shane can’t help it, lips quirking up as he says, “Professional? We weren’t even professional the day we met.”

Bergara only looks taken aback for only a quick second before he huffs out a laugh and retorts, "That's because you were a complete asshole even on that first day."

"I remember trying very hard to be nice to you, but you got upset that I kept pointing out that boats sink."

"It was a military boat that was specifically designed to _not_ sink!"

Shane laughs. This is better. The bickering, the yelling, they know how to navigate this. "Whatever," Shane says blithely. "Tell Elizondo that I’ll be by later to report you.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna tell him, you dick?”

“That’s private,” Shane says, giving a small shrug. “But I think he’ll be interested in what I have to say.”

“Great, well that will be a wonderful visit to Nancy in HR, then. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives Bergara his most obnoxious smile, enjoying the way Bergara rolls his eyes at him. Enjoying even more the fact that there’s a smile in the corner of his mouth.

Bergara looks good, hip cocked to the side, staring at Shane challengingly. Shane pushes down the urge to pull him in for a kiss. Last night had been…

“Last night was good,” Shane says, watching carefully as Bergara averts his eyes, as if suddenly shy.

“I guess it wasn’t too bad.” Bergara’s tapping on the counter, ignoring Shane’s gaze.

“Could’ve been better?”

Bergara shrugs. “Always room for improvement, right?”

Shane takes him in carefully, his eyes lingering on his face, and says, “Hmm. Guess I’ll just have to try harder. See you around, Bergara.”

_Next time_ , he thinks as he heads towards the door.

***

Shane’s phone remains annoyingly silent all weekend.

He had thought… Well, he had _hoped_ …

It’s now Sunday afternoon, and Shane is just sitting on the couch, half-heartedly watching _Cheers_. He’s mostly trying and failing not to think about it too much. The sex _had_ been really good. Shane had waited around all afternoon yesterday, hoping Bergara would call or text or _something_. They could’ve had a repeat performance. Maybe gotten dinner afterwards.

Now Shane is trying to pretend like he isn’t spending another night waiting around. Was it really only going to be one time? Bergara had enjoyed himself, hadn’t he? There was really no harm if they had sex again. If Bergara wanted to, and Shane wanted to – and oh god, Shane really, really wanted to.

Bergara would’ve said something if Shane had been awful, right? He’s never been shy about criticizing Shane before. If he hadn’t liked it, if he hadn’t felt what Shane felt…

Shane has been accused in the past by friends, several people he’s dated, and Bergara of being a robot who doesn’t know how to have normal human feelings – which is a lie. He definitely has feelings, alright? Happiness, sadness, anger, yada yada and so on. The problem, really, is that he’s just good at ignoring them, like flipping a switch. He’s always very much admired the Vulcans from _Star Trek_.

But that switch feels broken now. Shane keeps flipping it, desperately begging his brain to _stop_ , but it’s useless. He now knows what it’s like to kiss Ryan Bergara, to have him under him, what he sounds like when he comes, and just once doesn’t feel like enough. He’s starting to think that there might not ever be a satisfying number.

_Why hasn’t he even sent a text?_

Of course, Shane could call him. He’s considered it several times, has even hovered his thumb over the call button. But each time he’s pulled back by the stubborn thought that it’s now Bergara’s turn, dammit. Shane already went to his apartment – _brought him soup_ , for god’s sake. Shane can’t keep being this pathetic.

He’s pretty sure he wasn’t always like this. He’s been giving it a lot of thought, despite desperately trying not to, and he’s pretty sure that there was a point where this stupid rivalry with Bergara didn’t consume him. To his credit, _most_ nights weren’t spent obsessively thinking about crushing Bergara intellectually. He has friends. He has hobbies and interests. It wasn’t this bad even half a year ago.

But… Well, fine, more and more of those hobbies have involved hate watching Bergara’s investigation videos late into the night, and okay, sure, he has spent too many hours imagining scenarios where he can get Bergara to admit that all of his supernatural theories are complete bullshit. He can admit that those aren't exactly normal.

He is in the early stages of being _open_ to the idea that _maybe_ this thing with Bergara has been going on for longer than he had thought. Shane can admit that he has always liked having Bergara's attention. He can admit that it feels like his stomach is hosting a black hole whenever he thinks about the fact that soon Bergara will be far away and who knows who he will meet over there. The thought of someone else having what Shane got a taste of…

So if Shane can’t stop thinking about what Bergara could be doing or what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling, if he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him since they met – look, Shane can put two and two together. It’s just that he really doesn’t want to.

Sam and Diane are sticking their tongues out at each other when Shane hears a knock on his door. His heart stops, eyes wide. _Be cool, be cool, be cool_ , he tells himself as his pulse starts racing.

He pauses the show and forces himself to walk calmly towards the door. He realizes he’s holding his breath, and so he slowly and deliberately exhales. He stops in front of the door and runs a hand through his hair real quick to make sure it’s presentable.

Shane is going to open the door and be real fucking cool about it. He’s certainly not going to bring up the fact that he’s been waiting for Bergara to call. God no, he’s going to be normal and charming and probably annoying, but Bergara already knew that when he came here.

He straightens his posture and opens the door.

It’s Brent.

Shane feels himself deflate. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, first of all, _rude_. We were supposed to play video games, but I see you’ve forgotten.”

Shane winces at the memory of agreeing to hang out and play _Super Smash Bros._ early in the week. “I did, sorry. But come in, come in – I’ll order pizza. I get to be Princess Peach this time, though.”

Brent shakes his head at him but still comes in.

_This is good_ , Shane thinks as he and Brent sit on the couch. Much better than spending the whole day obsessing about Bergara. He gives it his all, trying his best to focus on crushing Brent’s Yoshi. They drink a couple of beers, eat some pizza, and Shane feels proud of himself.

But apparently he’s not doing such a good job because halfway through a battle, Brent turns to him and says, “Okay, seriously, are you expecting a call or something?”

“What?” Shane says, looking away from his phone and at Brent.

“You keep glancing at your phone. Like a lot.”

“No I’m not.” But he is, and he knows it. When Brent gives him a look like he’s full of shit, Shane sighs. “Okay, I… I hooked up with this guy on Friday, and I kind of thought he would’ve reached out by now.”

Brent's face quickly turns from concerned to contemplative to suspicious. “Wait, who’s the guy?”

“Just some guy,” Shane says, avoiding eye contact.

“Does he happen to work in the Pentagon?”

“...No.”

“Oh really? So you just happened to ask for his address that same day? You sure?”

“No, I would never – okay, fine, yes.” _Fuck it_. There’s no point denying it. Brent’s face is triumphant from having put it together, and Shane’s already in for a penny. “Yes, I slept with Bergara.”

“This explains _so_ much.”

Shane groans and rubs his face to try to stop feeling so _weird_. “I don’t really know how it happened. This is Bergara we’re talking about. I hate that guy.”

Brent snorts. “Right, you guys just tripped and touched each other’s wieners by accident. No clue at all how it happened.”

Shane groans again as Brent laughs. “Shut up, you know what I mean. I didn’t _plan_ for this to happen. I just… I don’t know. He’s maybe not as bad as I thought. He’s pretty funny and he has guts, and when we’re together… I can’t think about anything else but him.”

“Yeah, it totally sounds like you don’t like him.”

“I don’t!”

“No need to be defensive,” Brent says, grinning at Shane’s misery. “Was it good?”

“Jesus, we are _not_ talking about this. But yes.”

Brent laughs. “Listen, I actually really like him as a person. He’s a pretty cool guy, and you two have clearly had a thing going this whole time. You two have always been, like, freakishly obsessed with each other.”

“Well apparently not so much from him,” Shane says, stealing another glance at his phone which remain stubbornly silent.

“Text him.”

“No, I can’t do that!” Shane says petulantly. “I already brought him soup.”

Brent looks like he’s holding back more laughter. “That’s so romantic.”

“You come to _my_ house, you play _my_ games – ”

“Clearly he likes you enough to sleep with you,” Brent says. “You guys would be a pretty cute couple.”

“Just hearing you say that is making me break out into hives.”

“Love hives, yes, I read a paper about those.”

“Don’t you dare,” Shane says, pointing a threatening finger at him. “It’s not like that. Even if I wanted it to be like that – which I don’t – nothing is going to come out of this. He’s already told me he likes one of his coworkers, and he’s moving across the country in August, so.”

“Is he really?” When Shane nods, Brent says, “Oh that blows. Are you going to be okay?”

Shane scoffs, “What do you mean am I going to be okay? I’ll be _fine_. I’ll throw a big party even.”

“Aw dude, you got it so bad for him.”

The words hit deep in the center of his chest, where he’s soft and undefended, where a part of him can concede that maybe he does. “Are we gonna keep playing or what?”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll drop it, but first I do want to say this.” Brent gives him a very serious look that makes Shane shift uncomfortably. “I think Shane Bergara-Madej has a real nice ring to it.”

“I’m calling the cops.”

***

Shane wakes up Monday morning feeling stupidly dejected and very annoyed at himself for feeling that way. So Bergara didn’t call – so what? Shane’s just gonna move on with his life. He has some dignity still left in him.

He purposefully leaves his phone on his bedside table to stop himself for checking it. Shane showers and refuses to think about him. He gets dressed and forces himself to eat some cereal, because he is not going to let this get any more pathetic than it already is.

He is going to move on. So what if Bergara doesn't want to see him again? Shane has better things to do anyway. They kissed, they had sex – _big deal_. He did it, and now it can be out of his system.

What had Shane expected, anyway? That suddenly they'd start some sort of affair? That he and Bergara would just hang out and hook up? It was ridiculous to expect that.

If Bergara happens to need another consult, Brent can do it this time. Shane won’t grovel for his attention.

He is determined.

But that determination disappears the second he grabs his phone and sees a missed call from Bergara. He instantly calls him back and tries not to feel nervous as it rings.

“Hey,” Bergara’s voice says on the other end. There’s bustling noises in the background, and Shane can picture him in a busy Pentagon hallway wearing his usual black suit and tie.

“Hi,” Shane says and winces at how high his voice sounds. He clears his throat. “Uh, so what’s up?”

“I just thought you should know – ” a slight pause before the background noise fades away, like he’s stepped into a room, “– the Five have been spotted with a sixth person. We have reason to believe it’s Johanna.”

“Oh,” Shane says. Of course Bergara is calling about the case. Right. “Have you told the boyfriend?”

“No, we’ve been trying to confirm it’s her, but they’re not making it easy.”

Shane could point out that he had been right, that once again the more logical explanation wins, and she’s been hiding out with them this whole time. But he doesn’t. Instead he says, “Do you need me to come in and help?”

“I’m actually going to Nevada this afternoon. Elizondo doesn’t want to spend any more money on this than he has to, so he’s authorized me to go alone. I just thought, y’know, since you worked on the case that you might want to know.”

“Wait,” Shane says, frowning, “are you kicking me off the case?”

Bergara sounds surprised as he asks, “You want to come?” Shane can picture Bergara frowning at him like he always does when he’s confused and doesn’t understand what Shane is saying. It makes something in his chest jolt.

“Of course.” He ignores the nervous swoop in his stomach as he says, “Don’t think you can leave me out of this and take all the glory for yourself.”

There's a long pause. Shane's can feel his pulse pick up as he waits, as he pictures all the ways Bergara can say no, can call him out on such a pathetically obvious ploy. But then Bergara says, “Uh, okay. I’ll, uh, have to talk to Elizondo, but um. Flight is at one. Elizondo only gave me three days to wrap it up, so it won’t be that long of a trip. Um, so I’ll pick you up.”

“I’ll be ready,” Shane says.

“Okay,” Bergara says again, sounding more resolved. “See you then.”

Shane can feel a big stupid smile spread across his face as the call ends.

This is quite possibly his worst idea yet. It's a risk and a stupid one at that. Shane _knows._ But that doesn't stop this bright feeling in his chest as he quickly packs his suitcase, as he sends a quick e-mail to his boss to say he'll be out again.

He's never been rational when it comes to Bergara. He hasn't ever been able to explain to himself what makes him different, why Shane can never let things go with him.

Why start now?

***

Bergara gives him a small, hesitant smile as Shane gets in the car. “Hey.”

Shane smiles back, his insides twisting. “Hey.”

Bergara is wearing his usual suit, hair tidy, but he looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept at all and is living purely on coffee and stubbornness. Shane is close to demanding that Bergara let him drive instead, but Bergara puts the car in drive and heads out.

Bergara says, “So, Elizondo has basically made me promise him my first-born child if we don't stay on budget. We'll have to wing it a little. Curly is gonna pick us up at the airport, and he's gonna let us borrow his car.”

“Curly’s in Nevada?”

“Yeah, there’s a convention in town.” The way he says it, like it’s an inside joke, makes Shane raise a questioning eyebrow. Bergara elaborates, “Curly and a few other people basically threw it together as soon as they pinpointed where the Five are settled and that Johanna might be with them. There’s this theory that it’s some sort of sign or something. Luckily for us, he was also able to get us a room in the same motel at a discount.”

“I gotta say, that’s a little weird. Especially if they are keeping her hostage.”

“It’s not – well, okay, so I can see how it would look like that, but nobody thinks they’re dangerous people. They’re kind of, like, real life lore.”

“And we’re pretty sure it’s her?”

“I’m pretty confident. It’s the right height, the right build. They’re also being pretty careful. She’s only been captured on camera four times, but she has on a baseball cap that covers her face. That’s why we haven’t called Garrett yet. I don’t want to give him any false hope.”

A worried feeling enters Shane’s stomach as it hits him what this could mean. “Are we – are we going to try talking to her? It didn’t really go that great the last time.”

“I know.” Bergara sighs, looking tired. “There’s no guarantee we’ll be able to do anything, and the FBI is already looking into it as well. If we come home empty handed we're basically done with it. This is more of a Hail Mary pass, and we’ve just gotta hope that we can find _something_ out.”

Shane resists the urge to ask if he really, _truly_ believes that they know something about aliens. He knows Bergara does. That’s been the problem between them this whole time.

All he can do is just try to stop Bergara from getting himself killed.

So he says instead, “Alright. I don’t particularly appreciate the sports metaphor, but I guess I can forgive it this one time.”

Bergara laughs, looking a little more relaxed. “We’re going to go Kobe in the fourth quarter.”

“Stop it.”

Bergara turns to look at him, grinning, and Shane’s heart clenches painfully at the sight. They’re not far from the airport now.

He clears his throat and says, “So um, about our little 4th of July escapade...”

The smile vanishes from Bergara’s face. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t? I think maybe we should.”

Bergara’s eyes are glued to the road, hands clenched around the steering wheel. “It was… I mean, I’ve been thinking, and while I don’t regret that it happened, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing considering everything.”

Shane wants to ask what ‘everything’ means, but he can imagine that it involves their history of petty fights, the guy Bergara actually wants to be with, and the complications it would bring to this case. He swallows down the disappointment and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it was pretty dumb of us.”

“Right. We can just go back to normal.”

“Right.”

If Bergara is just trying to let him down easy, Shane isn’t sure he really wants to know.

***

The plane feels crowded as they walk towards their seats, and Shane hates how awkward he feels, too tall for the space.

“You can take the aisle seat,” Bergara says, smirking at him as he adds, “for your sasquatch legs.”

“Thanks. Kind of you.”

“No problem.”

“How lucky that you’re the world’s tiniest little man and can therefore fit anywhere.”

Bergara laughs and settles into his seat.

They wait in silence for the plane to take off. As the seconds tick by, Shane feels some awkwardness creep over them again. The air feels heavy, and he is too aware of Bergara sitting next to him, where they could be touching if only he moved just a few inches.

Thirty minutes into the flight, Bergara is staring out the window, and they still haven’t said anything. Shane is a little afraid to. This isn’t happening like he’d hoped, but time is a finite resource now, which is what prompts him to say, “You haven’t been sleeping.” It’s not a question.

Bergara turns to look at him, eyebrows quirked. He gives a little shrug. “No. A lot of things to think about.”

Shane wants to ask. He wants to know. But instead he says, “You should try to get some sleep before we get there. I don’t wanna you collapsing suddenly.”

“Don’t want me hallucinating from lack of sleep?”

“Okay, alright, that’s not what I said, and the last time we had this fight – ”

Bergara snorts out a laugh and looks away, color rushing to his cheeks. “Yeah, okay. Fine, I’ll try.”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, and Shane forces himself to look away. This isn’t going to happen. He has to stop wanting it to. God, it’s insane that he even wants it to.

Shane does his best to focus on other things. He tries to read a very boring magazine and then tries listening to an ecology podcast. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he blinks awake, the voice over the intercom is telling them to buckle up as they’re about to land.

Bergara’s head is resting on Shane’s shoulder. Shane can’t help but smile softly as he realizes, a flood of warmth entering his chest followed by a pang of sadness.

Bergara straightens up, looking startled and a little disoriented. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, “Didn’t mean to – ”

“It’s fine,” Shane says quickly. “I was asleep too.”

_It would’ve been fine even if I wasn’t_ , he thinks and instantly feels a little stupid.


	5. Chapter 5

“What’s up, boys?” Curly grins as they walk towards him. “So glad you could join the party!”

“We’re here on business,” Bergara says as Curly pulls him into a hug.

“Ugh, don’t spoil it with facts and details! Look at you, all fancy and professional in your cute little suit. It's crazy hot out, you'll burn to a crisp.” Curly turns to Shane and grins at him. “Back again, I see.”

“Curly!” Bergara hisses, but Shane gladly accepts Curly’s hug.

“Good to see you too, man. Afraid I’m still not convinced, though.”

“And yet here you are.” He gives Bergara a look and says, “Mysteries abound, right Ryan?”

“Yeah, real weird. Guess we’ll never know. Hey, I’m starving – are you hungry? We should grab some food.”

Curly just smiles at Shane but doesn’t push it.

It’s a forty minute drive from the airport to the town they’re staying in. From what Shane can gather, Bergara has told Curly they’re visiting a nearby military base to record some sort of boring footage for the Pentagon. Curly shares a look with Shane that states he’s not really buying it, but the topic moves on easily to the convention he’s thrown together.

“It was very last minute,” Curly says. “It’s only, like, seventeen people, and we’re mostly just stargazing at night and having a fun time – but who knows! Something is definitely up. You know how usually they’ll get a couple of jobs and be seen around town? This time they’ve hardly left the house they rented.”

From the backseat, Shane can only partially see Bergara’s face, but it’s enough to see the gears in his brain working as he frowns and says, “How are they making money? Or if they’re not, why did they stop _caring_ about money?”

Curly shrugs. “Eugene thinks they’re just scared the FBI will snatch up Johanna once they realize they’ve got her. He’s convinced they’ve been holding her hostage this whole time.”

“Sounds like a smart man,” Shane says, making Bergara turn around to give him one of his usual _ugh stop talking_ frowns. Shane just gives him back an innocent, little shrug and adds, “Is he here? I’d love to meet him.”

“Oh for sure, you’ll love him,” Curly says. “He’s a secret sweetie. He and Ryan dated a bit before Ryan left for D.C. actually.”

“It was just a handful of dates – you make it sound like he was my boyfriend.”

Curly just laughs while Shane does his best to keep his face neutral. Maybe he wouldn’t like Eugene at all then. Curly says, “Oh sorry, I guess I just have a hard time keeping facts straight since you keep refusing to tell me the juicy gossip on your life.”

“Yeah, and with good reason.”

Shane can see Curly’s devilish grin through the rear view mirror as he says, “Fine, don’t tell me. Shane, any update _you_ can give me on Ryan’s life? Any news I should be aware of?”

Bergara’s jaw drops in indignation. “No! No he can’t!”

“Well there is something…” Shane feels a thrill in his stomach as Bergara quickly turns around to throws daggers at him with his eyes.

Curly says, “Please do tell.”

“Well he did confessed to me that he would marry Mothman if given the chance, not caring at all that it would break up his marriage to Bigfoot. We have a real homewrecker in our midst.”

“Marriage?” Curly laughs and says, "Wow, did not know they were married. But I can’t say I’m shocked. Some Mothman sketches have him being buff and kinda sexy. I can see why you’d be into that, Ryan."

"I hate this bit," Bergara says, "and I want it to stop."

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Curly says. “We didn’t mean to bully you.”

Shane says, “I did."

“Okay, Shane did, but I really didn’t.” He pats Bergara’s shoulder. “We’ll be nice now.”

“He won’t,” Bergara says at the same time that Shane says, “I won’t.”

Curly laughs. "You guys are so cute. I mean listen, I'm just putting this out there, do with it what you want. Eugene and I will be staying all the way down the hall. If something sexy were to happen, I wouldn't hear it.”

"Thanks for the hot tip," Shane says, making Bergara bring a hand up to his face, long suffering.

Bergara hisses, "Don't encourage him, you asshole.”

Shane laughs along with Curly and ignores the drowning feeling in his stomach.

***

The heat is all encompassing. Despite the fact that they were only properly outside for barely four minute as they went from one air conditioned spot to another, Bergara insisting they had no time to waste, it has crawled under Shane’s skin. He feels unbearably, insufferably restless as he and Bergara sit in Curly’s car in silence.

The AC is cranked up to the highest setting. The little blue house they’ve been watching for the last two hours remains still and silent. The sun is making its descent by now, the light very slowly turning a warm orange around them.Shane feels seconds away from tearing at his skin.

It’s the heat. It’s got to be the heat.

_Everything_ is still. The well-kept neighborhood around them shows no sign of activity either. Everyone is probably inside their houses, enjoying their lives and blissfully unaware that a group of potentially dangerous kidnappers is hiding just a few doors down.

Bergara has barely said a word since they dumped their suitcases at the motel and Curly gave him the keys to his car. His suit jacket is in the backseat; his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows. There’s something pinched about the way he’s holding himself, too unnatural and strained, and something in Shane wants to groan in frustration as he recognizes that stance.

A fight is coming. Shane can feel it in his fingertips, in the bitter ache in his chest, in the tightness around his ribs.

He wonders for the hundredth time how he ended up here. He should’ve stayed home, should’ve never gone crawling to Bergara’s apartment last Friday. He should’ve smothered every little bit of hope as soon as he recognized it, and maybe then he wouldn’t feel like this now.

But he didn’t. And he’s here. So despite the fact that Bergara has that determined air to him that he always gets when he’s being stubborn about something, Shane figures he should try anyway and says, “As riveting as this as been, watching them go nowhere and do nothing, maybe we should go check out what Curly’s doing – that sky watching thing.”

Bergara crosses his arms and says darkly, “No. Absolutely not.”

“It could be fun.”

“Having you meet Curly was a mistake. ‘ _Thanks for the hot tip_ , _ha ha_ ’ – what even _was_ that? We agreed not to talk about it.”

Shane puts his hands up defensively. “Hey, Curly started that. I was just joking.”

Bergara rolls his eyes. “Well he really thinks something is going on between us, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t go along with it.”

_There_ is _something going on between us_ , Shane thinks petulantly, but he doesn't dare say it. Instead: “Curly and I are thick as thieves. I don’t think I can keep secrets from him.”

“Great, well then go and tell him everything. Tell him we’re here as part of a secret government agency and that I saw a UFO and then _oh hey_ , also we made the terrible decision to fuck but it meant nothing so you can stop prying into Ryan’s personal life – why don’t you go tell him all of that while I stay here and fucking do my job.”

Shane inhales sharply and feels himself frowns as the words land a swift kick to his chest. He only has one second of pitiful sadness before anger takes over, and that’s better, that’s so much fucking better than whatever pathetic sludge had been there before. “No, of course, sitting here is a much better use of our time. But when that doesn’t work, then what? Are you gonna go up to them again? Because _that_ went so well last time. You gonna knock on the door all, _hey remember me? We heard you got the girl_?”

Bergara’s jaw visibly clenches, and Shane knows it landed. He doesn’t back down. He can’t. This isn’t what Shane wants, he knows that now, but if there’s nothing more than this, if they’re never going to be anything _but_ this, then it’s all Shane has. And maybe this will teach him not to be stupid enough to fall for literally the last person who could ever return his feelings.

Begara says, “You got a better idea then? What does the genius Doctor Shane Alexander Madej recommend?”

“Letting the fucking FBI handle this.”

“Brilliant. Great, well good thing I got my time machine here so that I can go back in time and apply to become an FBI agent. Thanks, what a great help you are.”

"Yeah, what a hindrance to have someone on board who'll stop you from doing dumb shit and who actually has an understanding of how the laws of physics work and – "

"Someone who doesn't even believe in the work we're doing! Yeah, that's always helpful to the case, thanks. I have to lie to Curly and my family and _everyone_ who actually cares about this, and yet somehow _you_ get to come along and mock me."

Shane laughs, but it comes out bitter and mean. He hates it, but it doesn't stop the words from coming up, from saying, "It's not me mocking you. It's me stating basic and obvious facts."

The glare Bergara wields at him is strong and awful, and it just plummets from there. It's the same fight they've been having for two years, it's the same low blows and petty remarks, but this time Shane doesn’t feel like he’s winning, no matter how many nasty verbal jabs he manages to land.

And neither of them notice someone peeking out from behind a curtain.

***

It’s close to midnight when they return to the motel. Shane’s entire body feels stiff and uncomfortable and unbearably unhappy. He’s _exhausted_ – the long trip, the time change, the hours spent sitting, the fight. Bitterness sits heavily in his chest.

Their dumb fight ended after they started yelling over each other and then Bergara said, "I'm done talking to you!" and then refused to say anything else. They sat in heavy silence for hours, both stubbornly refusing to be the first one to talk, the air tense.

They avoid each other as they get ready for bed, slamming suitcases shut and setting things down with more force than is needed. It’s their same petty bullshit as always.

Shane _knows_ that he’s being stupid, and he _knows_ that they still have two whole days left where they have to work together, and he _knows that he’s fucking ruining it_ – but there’s still a stubborn, prideful resistance in him that stops him from saying anything to fix it. Why should he apologize, anyway, when Bergara is the one throwing him away? If Bergara wants to put it all behind them, then fine. If they’re back to being enemies, then _fine_.

He doesn't want to examine it, doesn’t want to think about how they were _fine_ this morning, how Bergara smiled at him and they talked and it was _fine_. Well, maybe not fine because it was awful and not what Shane wanted, but at least they were – and Shane hadn’t – it had been – _he doesn’t want to think about it._

Shane doesn’t say anything as he slips under the covers and turns to face the wall to prevent his treacherous eyes from glancing at Bergara. It doesn’t help much. He can still sense his presence in the room, and it prevents his brain from thinking rationally.

The anger that had been holding him together is slowly leaking away, leaving behind a tightness in his throat.

This isn’t how he’d pictured it going this morning. This is them two years ago, them six months ago – hell, maybe even two months ago. Shane doesn’t want this. Not anymore.

Bergara turns the lights off; the room sink into darkness.

Shane can’t sleep despite his body begging him to just give up and give in to it. He’s not sure how much time passes, and he refuses to move and check. No matter how awful he feels right now, how tired, how unhappy, at least staying awake means that it’s not yet tomorrow.

Tomorrow will probably be unbearable, trapped in the car again with Bergara, and then all too soon they’ll be back on a plane. It will be over, and Shane doesn’t know how to fix it. This is the last case they’ll ever work together, and they’re ruining it.

“Are you still awake?” Bergara asks.

Shane almost thinks he’s imagining it; he hesitates for a second, considers feigning sleep, but then says, “Yeah.”

Bergara sighs, and a second later Shane hears him pushing the covers back. Shane doesn’t move until he feels the bed dip. His heart stops as he opens his eyes and turns to sees Bergara sitting there next to him.

Shane sits up quickly. He can only just barely make out his face.

“You’re being really stupid,” Bergara says, an accusing edge to his voice.

“No I'm not.”

“Yes you are. You’re the one that wanted to come so I don’t know why you’re acting like this case is a waste of time.

“I don’t think it is,” Shane says defensively. Even with the darkness covering him, he can’t help but feel exposed. How is Bergara not seeing how pathetically he's taking this rejection?

“I had to beg Elizondo to let you come, y’know. Don’t act like such an asshole when we’re supposed to be on the same team.”

_I'm sorry_. It’s at the tip of his tongue. “I wanted to come to help, not to fight. You were already mad at me, though."

Bergara doesn’t say anything for a while, long enough that Shane starts to question whether he said the wrong thing again, if he fucked it up. But then he admits quietly, “I guess I was. I didn’t mean for us to fight like that, but I just – I don’t know how to…” He takes a deep breath, starts over: “This is just really stressful and completely insane, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help Johanna or how to get answers.”

Shane nods. He knows this is a big deal. "This is dangerous stuff, Ryan”

“I know, _Shane._ ”

Shane huffs out a short laugh, hadn’t even realized his name had slipped out. “Ryan,” he says again, and it comes out softer than he means it to, “I just mean that we have to be careful. Look, I don’t – I don’t know what to do either, and I’m honestly terrified of what could happen. I’m out of my depth. But I know you’ll think of something.”

Bergara says, voice smiling, “Thanks. Both for the vote of confidence and for dumping it on me.”

“Well, you are the case manager. It’s only fair.”

Bergara laughs, and Shane’s stupid heart glows with it. Bergara says, “I guess we’ll see how it goes. But we can call this a truce, right? I don’t want to spend the next two days arguing.”

“Truce,” Shane agrees easily. Although. He hesitates only for a second before asking, his heart starting to race, “But...was that the only reason you were upset? Because the thing with Curly seemed to really bother you too.” Shane can feel Bergara pull away, can see his dark outline go tense, and that makes Shane add, “I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, and I can respect that. I just don’t know where that leaves us.”

Shane braces himself as Bergara takes a deep breath and sighs. Bergara says, “I guess I was angry about that too. I never thought that we would actually... _do that_ , and I didn’t like Curly joking about it.”

His stomach is jumbled with nerves as Shane admits, “I don’t think sleeping together was a mistake. I think we probably should’ve done it sooner.”

Bergara’s breath hitches, audible only in the dark silence. Shane wishes desperately that he could see his face more clearly. Each second feels eternal, until finally Bergara says, voice defeated, “Look, maybe we can try to be friends. Like normal people.”

He feels his insides flinch at the word, but he doesn’t dare show it, tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he says, “I don’t normally have sex with my friends.”

“It's – ” Bergara sighs, deep and tired. “It’s not that I don't want to. Believe me, I _do_.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t make smart decisions around you.”

“When do you ever?” Bergara punches his arm, and Shane laughs, rubbing the spot though it didn’t hurt. “Sorry, force of habit."

"It's just not a good idea for us."

Shane nods, not even sure if Bergara can see it, but he doesn't know how much he can trust himself to speak. The disappointment stings deep in his chest. Bergara is probably right, it _isn't_ a good idea, but Shane had been more than willing to ignore that. Bergara is here sitting on his bed and that’s so much more than Shane had ten minutes ago. Maybe that's what makes him say, "I've always been a complete idiot around you."

“ _Just_ around me?” Bergara laughs.

“Well now who’s being a jerk?”

Bergara laughs again. “It’s still you.” He shifts, letting his body drop forward until he’s lying down, his head on the pillow Shane wasn’t using.

Shane freezes for a second, afraid to make the wrong move, before carefully lying back down too so that they’re once again face to face. His heart thumps hard in his chest, enough that for a second he's scared Bergara will hear it too.

Bergara says softly, like a confession, "Things were easier when I hated you, and you made fun of me for believing in ghosts."

"I can still make fun of you for that, if you want."

"Yeah, tell me you think I'm stupid and insane."

“You are,” Shane says, unable to stop the fondness in his voice. “But I have to admit you're also smart and funny and I do admire how dedicated you are to this. And… And I'm going to miss you."

“No, you jerk,” Bergara says weakly, "don't say that. We're already in dangerous territory, and I'm trying not to sleep with you."

Shane tries to sound casual as he asks, “And how’s that going?”

”I’m managing.” He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “We should get some sleep. We still have a full day tomorrow, and we have to sneak out early to avoid breakfast with Curly.”

“I don’t appreciate you keeping Curly from me. He’s my best friend.”

Bergara laughs. “God, now you’re really talking nonsense. Go to sleep.”

Bergara starts to sit up, but Shane says, “Wait,” a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He swallows hard as he gathers up the courage and says, “Stay here tonight. No funny business or anything, just – ” He doesn’t have a good excuse, doesn’t know what else he can say that isn’t too pathetic, so he settles on, “Stay here.”

“...Okay.” The word sends relief through Shane, feeling his body relax as Bergara shifts so he can get under the covers. He adds playfully, “Just don’t snore.”

“I don’t snore!”

Bergara chuckles at his own joke, and Shane closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth from Bergara’s body despite the couple of inches between them. He’s tired, but the misery that had been wringing him out earlier is at least gone. Bergara’s here. He stayed.

He feels Bergara’s hand find his under the covers. Their fingers lace together easily.

Maybe things aren’t so hopeless after all.

***

The adjustment is harder than Andrew had expected. He's surprised to realize that he has forgotten how to cook for six people instead of five. The portions keep being off, either too much or not enough. He’s not sure if these ten eggs will be enough for their breakfast this morning.

Not that they can actually go out and get more right now. There’s no money. They’re in the last days.

Daysha helps him gather plates for everyone, but whereas before they used to chat as they got everything ready, now they work in silence.

The house they’re staying in is small – too small for three people let alone six and all of their emotional baggage. Jen had given him and Steven the only bedroom, though Andrew suspects that was mostly to make sure Steven had a wall separating him from Johanna.

Steven hasn't been handling it well. He and Johanna had a big fight three nights ago when Steven called her heartless for leaving them behind, for breaking the promise that they’d all made. Johanna had cried and said that Steven would never understand what she’d felt. It ended with Jen banging on the table until they fell silent and reminding them that none of that mattered now.

Andrew had sat on the couch, looking only at the floor. He can understand Steven’s anger. A big part of him is still angry too. Angry and hurt. But he is also filled with relief at seeing her again after thinking he never would.

She'd called them. She's chosen them. Andrew knows that must've been hard for her. She's often lost in thought, rarely speaking. He's seen her come out of the bathroom, eyes red from crying.

They've spent years talking about what it would be like. He had never pictured it like this.

They eat breakfast in the living room since the only table in the house is only meant for two people. More silence. Steven is avoiding even looking at Johanna, and Andrew wonders for the hundredth time if that will affect them tonight. They will all be together. They'll complete their purpose. What if it's not what they thought? What if it messes everything up?

Maya suddenly clears her throat and says, “I’ve been thinking. I know we said that we wouldn’t leave any goodbyes, but what if we got someone to deliver them? Like a messenger?”

Johanna, who’d been picking at her food looking lost in thought, is suddenly paying close attention.

Everyone turns to look at Jen. She frowns in confusion and says, “Like who?”

Maya smiles excitedly. “Guess who I saw yesterday.”

***

Loud knocking wakes them up in the morning, followed by Curly yelling, “Ryan Bergara! You promised me pancakes!”

Shane makes a small, involuntary complaining noise at the sudden loss of warmth when Bergara stumbles out of bed to go open the door. It’s too early, and Shane had been having a rather pleasant dream, something he can’t quite recall other than it felt nice and warm. It takes effort to sit up and put on his glasses as Curly stumbles in.

Curly looks suspiciously at Bergara’s bed, which still has the covers pushed back and looks rumpled enough. It must pass the test because Curly looks away from it and says, “Come on, chop chop, boys. I know the perfect place.”

The perfect place turns out to be an alien themed diner not too far from the motel. Several other people – who Shane assumes must be part of the convention – greet Curly as they walk in. Shane feels himself grin as he looks around at all of the horribly tacky decor.

“Look,” Shane says, pointing at the neon sign of two aliens driving in a spaceship. One of the aliens is doing a peace sign with his little alien fingers. “That’s absolutely horrifying. I love it.”

“Disrespectful to higher life forms,” Bergara says, lips twitching as he suppresses a smile.

Curly says, “Isn’t it the best? They’ll put edible glitter on pretty much anything if you ask.” He leads them to a table where an incredibly handsome man is staring at his phone. He looks up as they approach, and Curly says, “I had to bang on the door. He was still asleep.”

The man smiles. “I guess some things never change, huh?” He glances at Shane and gives him a small wave. “Hey, I’m Eugene.”

_Oh_. Shane smiles back, hopes it doesn’t look forced, and says, “I’m Shane, hey. Nice to meet you.” He sits next to Bergara.

Shane has never thought of himself as a jealous person. He’s never felt possessive over any of his ex-partners, and he’s certainly never been rude to any of _their_ exes. He refuses to be that type of person. So he engages in polite conversation and smiles in the right places, and he pushes away the gnawing feeling of wanting to make it clear that Bergara is off limits by putting an arm around him. This isn’t the time or place, and they’re not...

Despite whatever moment they had last night, Bergara _isn’t_ his _._

Quite the opposite, Bergara seems to be planting some distance between them again. Shane had noticed that he’d been a bit quiet and awkward as they got ready this morning, kept avoiding looking at him, and it feels even more obvious now as he keeps a careful amount of space between them.

Shane locks away a dispirited sigh and tries to ignore how Eugene is not only handsome but also funny and a believer in all of this. He tries to ignore the fact that Bergara is about to step back into this world and completely leave Shane behind.

It’s a surprise to him when Eugene says, “So what’s up with you, Shane?”

“Hmm?” Shane says, mouth still full.

“Curly says you’re not a believer in this so what brings you all the way out?”

Shane feels awkward as he has to quickly finish chewing while everyone watches. He clears his throat before answering, “Oh, y’know, just...curiosity. Um. Ryan tries to convince me supernatural things are real, and I do my best to prove it isn’t. It’s our special little thing.”

Eugene smiles, and it looks so genuinely warm that Shane hates him a little bit more. “A real life Mulder and Scully! Ryan’s even wearing a cute little power suit.”

Curly laughs. “Yes! Ooh, what if you guys do a little sketch together tonight for the group? Like a dramatic reading of sorts?”

“Keith would love that.”

Bergara makes a face and says, “We are not doing that.”

Eugene laughs. “Fine, well you’ll be getting a very sad text from Keith later. No, but seriously, I get the skepticism. A lot of us operate on faith, I think. We choose to believe in what people are saying, in the videos we’re watching. I personally do think there are boring answers for most things we encounter, but the other percent is what makes me a believer. It’s pretty cool that you guys can be close despite the difference. I really respect you being open minded enough to still give it a try.”

Bergara scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure open minded is the right descriptor.”

“No, no,” Shane says, “I think he’s got it. Spot on. Shane ‘open minded’ Madej, that’s what everyone calls me.”

Bergara gives Shane a look that states he’s full of shit, and Shane tries to look above it, hoping it’s not too obvious that his stomach swoops at having Bergara’s undivided attention. Bergara says,“No one calls you that.”

“Everyone in D.C. does.”

“Literally one of our first fights was because you said everything I believe in was baloney.”

“I only said that because it’s true.”

“This just proves my point! that you’re not really open minded. You’re always dismissive when – ”

Curly says, “See?” He’s grinning at Eugene, looking very pleased with himself. “Aren’t they the cutest?”

“Shut up,” Bergara says quickly, looking away from Shane to stare at his plate.

Eugene says, “Aw, look, he’s being shy.”

Bergara gives him one of his more powerful glares and says, “Shut it!”

Eugene and Curly laugh, loud and clutching at each other. Bergara brings a hand up to his face and grumbles, “Why do I even talk to you guys?”

Eugene says, “Because we’re all weirdos and no one else will talk to us. Oh, I guess you got Shane to talk to you, so you’re actually doing better than everyone here.”

“Why don’t we move on to a new topic?” Bergara says. “Literally anything else.”

“Ooh, I know.” Eugene grins and leans forward. “What’s your astrological sign, Shane? No, wait, let me guess… Are you a Taurus?”

“Uh, I think so? I was born May.”

“Yes! I knew it! I could sense a fellow earth sign. This is interesting, _very_ interesting.”

Bergara stands up and says, “Wow, well thanks for breakfast, guys. Shane and I will be going now. Expect revenge in the near future.”

Curly and Eugene wave goodbye as Shane says a quick, “Ok, uh, thanks, guys,” and stands up too. “Nice to meet you, Eugene.”

“You too!”

Bergara says, “ _Let’s go_ ,” and heads for the door.

***

The Five’s house stares back at them, not giving anything away. Shane’s not sure if he can handle a full day of just sitting here. Bergara hasn’t said much since breakfast, and whenever Shane tries to start a conversation, he gets distant, distracted answers.

For a moment, Shane wonders if last night had just been a very vivid dream. How is it possible that last night had felt like he and Bergara were finally on the same page, like they’d taken a step forward, and now Bergara is miles away? And why does Shane keep fucking trying when he knows it’s hopeless?

They’ve been completely silent for the last eleven minutes, and Shane doesn’t know what to do with himself. His treacherous eyes keep wanting to look at Bergara, not caring how it makes Shane’s heart sink pathetically. Bergara’s suit jacket is in the backseat again, sleeves rolled up, and _goddamit_ , it’s just not fair that he gets to look this fucking good while they’re trapped together.

“So,” Shane says, hating the way he feels right now, so stupidly desperate for a crumb of Bergara’s attention, not able to stop himself from asking, “what happened between you and Eugene?”

Bergara quickly snaps his head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do _I_ mean? Curly mentioned yesterday that you two dated, so I’m just curious to know what happened. He seems...nice. You two are…” Shane internally winces at how fucking lame he sounds, tiptoeing around words, “ _believers_ in all of this.”

“It just didn’t work out,” Bergara says quickly.

“Why?” Shane crosses his arms and hopes he comes across as casual. His skin feels too tight as he sternly tells himself that he is _not_ about to pathetically ask Bergara whom he likes better.

“It just…” Bergara lets out a long, frustrated sounding sigh and rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. We went out a few times. It was nice, I guess, but – well then AATIP called and I got offered this job. There wasn’t enough there to do long distance, much less ask him to move with me, and then it was done.”

“Hmm. How sad. Did you cry?”

Bergara snorts out a laugh, and Shane’s heart does a stupid little backflip at seeing him smile. “Sure, yeah. Endless weeping.”

Shane is close to saying something stupid, to admitting that he’s glad it didn’t work out with Eugene, that he’s glad it didn’t work out with whatever idiot works at the Pentagon with him. So he says instead, “Your neighbors probably thought a ghost moved in, freakin’ Moaning Myrtle crying it up next door.”

A small, startled laugh escapes Bergara, though he quickly tries to compose himself and gives Shane a glare. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

_Too late_. “I think you liked it. You thought my joke was good.”

Bergara shakes his head. “No. It was a very bad joke.”

“Yeah, but you loved it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well agree to disagree. Like civilized people.”

Bergara raises his eyebrows, a small smile creeping in despite him trying to suppress it. “Oh we’re civilized people now? Nancy is going to be so proud of us.”

Shane can tell that his own smile is close too close to besotted, but he can’t help it. “She’ll be so excited. I legitimately thought she was going to quit last time we were there.”

Bergara laughs at the memory and adds, “She wanted to murder us. What were we fighting about? Was it the fundraiser?”

“Yeah, she was really angry that the congressman had to witness our argument. Considering how dirty politics are, you’d think he’d be used to a small tussle.”

Bergara shakes his head and sounds almost fond as he says, “So stupid.”

“But we’re good now, right? So does this mean I get to look inside the super secret notebook?”

“No way in hell,” Bergara says, tone playful despite the fact that Shane can tell he means it.

Shane’s eyes go to the backseat, where the notebook sits innocently next to Bergara’s jacket. He reaches back there quickly, snatching it up and instantly turning his whole body so that his back is blocking Bergara when he reaches to grab it. Shane says, “What exactly do you have in here?”

Bergara says, “It’s just my notes – _give it back_ ,” but Shane ignores him and opens it to a random page as Bergara keeps trying to grab for it.

It’s a lot of dates and event summaries. As he keeps turning pages, only allowing himself to skim it quickly, he recognizes some names of people they interviewed together. Some stuff is circled, some stuff has little exclamation points next to it. Every now and then, something in the margins is completely scratched out. Shane says, “These are the notes of a serial killer.”

“It’s my _job_ – ”

“AATIP pays you to be a serial killer?” Shane feels more and more of Bergara’s weight as he leans in completely, arm reaching under Shane’s, sending a jungle of butterflies into Shane’s stomach.

“ _Shane_!” He almost sounds like he’s trying not to laugh as he says, “It’s to keep track of things, you asshole, _give it back_!”

So Shane pushes his luck and asks, “Any juicy secrets in here?”

“Shut up,” Bergara says, and now Shane is pretty sure that he’s smiling. “Whatever is in there is none of your – ”

He’s cut off by a sudden knock on the driver’s side window.

Shane feels Bergara freeze, and they pause for a second before both turning around. Maya and Andrew stand on the other side of the door. Maya smiles and waves.

Shane feels a terrified chill in his chest as his eyes meet Bergara’s for a second. Shane reaches a hand out to stop him, but it’s too late and Bergara’s already lowering the window.

Maya says brightly, “Hey there. Sorry to interrupt.”

“Uhhh,” Bergara says, and Shane is right there with him. Bergara glances over at Shane one more time before saying, “Hi?”

Maya smiles at them like they’re being amusing, and Shane doesn’t like that one fucking bit. “Can we go for a little drive?”

Shane gets as far as, “I don’t think that’s – ” before Maya opens the backseat.

She slides all the way in, followed by a very reluctant looking Andrew. The sound of the door closing feels final, and Shane feels frozen in his seat. Bergara’s eyes are wide, mouth open, and if Shane had full control of his limbs, he would shove him out the door and make him _run_.

“There’s a park just around the corner.” Maya buckles her seatbelt. She sounds completely carefree, like they’re all just friends having a nice day out. “Why don’t we go there?”

“Uh, sure,” Bergara says, sounding anything _but_ sure. Still he pulls the car in drive and suddenly they’re heading towards a fucking park with two cult members in their backseat.

Shane keeps staring at Bergara, trying to catch his eye so that they can telepathically form a plan so that they don’t get fucking murked in a goddamn park in the middle of the desert. But either Bergara is truly oblivious or he’s choosing not to look at him because the car comes to a complete stop at the entrance of a park, complete with a jungle gym and several picnic tables.

_There are worse places to die in,_ Shane thinks morbidly as Maya unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car.

Bergara only hesitates for a second before he’s getting out of the car too. As discreetly as he can, Shane pulls out his phone and pre-dials 911. He lets his thumb hover over the call button as he gets out of the car too.

The heat feels excruciating. The playground is completely deserted, _no witnesses_ , and Shane really wishes they’d told Curly a specific time to expect them back. _This is bad, this is bad, this is bad_.

“Why don’t we go sit under that gazebo over there,” Maya says, already walking towards. “We can have a little chat.”

Shane and Bergara walk a couple of steps behind them. Shane only manages to hiss out, “ _What the fuck are we_ – ” before Bergara orders, “ _Just stay calm_ ,” not sounding the least bit calm himself as Maya and Andrew step into the little covered section with a handful of picnic tables. They take a seat.

Maya laughs suddenly, the sound startling both Shane and Bergara, making them flinch back. She says, “Oh my god, you guys look like you’re about to shit yourselves. We’re not here to like, hurt you or anything.”

“Unless you force us to defend ourselves,” Andrew says, face completely serious, though it just makes Maya roll her eyes.

Bergara gives Shane one last look before sitting down as well. Every nerve in his body is telling him not to, but Shane ignores it and sits.

With Maya and Andrew’s arms resting on the table, their matching tattoos are out in the open. A triangle on their wrists. They look comfortable with each other, both sitting closer than what might be considered normal, elbows touching. Shane’s brain reminds him unhelpfully of the snippet he read from the notebook, just a few precious minutes ago, stating that they’d been living together in a van since their late teens.

“ _Hey_ ,” Andrew suddenly snaps, frowning at Shane. “You’re not recording us, are you?” He looks at Shane’s phone, and Shane puts it down on the table, holding his hands up.

Shane says, “No, no, hey, do I look like someone who would record conversations?”

“Well, to be fair, we have been following them,” Bergara says.

Maya gives him a sweet smile, and Shane remembers her flirtatious tone back in Tennessee and finds himself frowning. “You’re on my team,” Shane reminds him.

“I am, but I was just saying – ”

“Oh- _kay_ ,” Maya interrupts them, “sorry, but we don’t have that much time. I just want to know if you saw them.”

She’s looking at Ryan with wide, honest eyes, and oh god, Shane can practically see Bergara melt into a puddle of Believers' goo.

“Yes,” Bergara says, leaning forward, earnest. “I mean, not – not _them_ , exactly, just the ship. I think I was lifted up a little by some sort of anti-gravity pull from it.”

“I told you he saw them,” Maya tells Andrew, who’s facial expression hasn’t changed at all. She gives a little laugh and adds, “We were walking all over those stupid woods, and he just stumbled upon them!”

Andrew keeps his eyes on Bergara, like he's trying to read him, and Shane feels a powerless surge of anger. This is bad. Whatever they're trying to pull here, Bergara is too vulnerable to it, too honest, and Shane has no idea how to get them out of this weird hostage situation. Andrew asks, “Have you had an encounter before?”

Bergara shakes his head. “Not first hand, no. But…” He glances at Shane, eyes meeting for just a second – long enough for Shane to feel dread at what's to come – before he blurts out, “I’m part of this government branch called the Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program. We try to look into UFO sightings and abductions. That’s why we’ve been following you. We just want information.”

" _Ryan,"_ Shane hisses, but Bergara doesn’t even seem to pay him any mind, apparently all in.

Andrew and Maya exchange a look, though Shane can’t quite tell what they communicated to each other. Shane frowns, not liking or approving of this new honesty policy. There’s an unsettled feeling in his stomach. Bergara shouldn’t be talking to these people. They’re feeding into his delusion, all of them reinforcing their ideas about aliens being real.

Bergara clears his throat and adds, “Also, I... I wanted to say thank you. For taking me to the hospital.”

Maya reaches out and puts a hand over his, giving it a small squeeze. She sounds earnest when she says, “You’re welcome.”

Bergara’s smiling back at her now too, soft and so stupidly open that Shane says, “Okay, alright,” to break up whatever little moment is going on here. “Let’s not forget that we’re also here because we know Johanna is with you. We just want to make sure she’s safe.”

“ _Shane_ ,” Bergara hisses as Maya retreats her hand and crosses her arms.

“Well they’re right here! And if they’re not going to kill us, we might as well ask!”

Andrew and Maya exchange another look before Andrew states, “Johanna is not with us.”

Bergara frowns, but his voice still has a trace of an apology as he says, “We have footage of you with a sixth person.”

Maya says, “We really had nothing to do with that. Johanna was taken by a UFO.”

Shane barely holds back a scoff. “Then who else is with you?”

Andrew says, “A cousin. She was just visiting.” When Shane opens his mouth to demand more information, Andrew holds up a hand. “We’re not here to talk about Johanna. We have an exchange to offer.”

Shane narrows his eyes in suspicion, but Bergara nods and asks, “What type of exchange?”

Maya isn't even pretending to talk to the two of them. Her eyes are only on Bergara as she asks, “Would you like to see a UFO again?”

Shane feels anger swell up in his chest as Bergara’s face goes from surprised to dreamily hopeful. “This is bullshit,” he says, _because it is_ , and he holds his ground when three insulted faces snap to look at him. “So you’re going to show Bergara some holographic trick you’ve cooked up in exchange for what? Money? Government secrets? A murder cover up?”

“Ignore him,” Bergara says, glaring at Shane. Shane glares back. “He doesn’t work directly for the department. I’m authorized to make a deal. What exactly is the transaction that’s happening here?”

Maya seems overjoyed by his answer, practically bouncing in her seat from excitement. “I knew you’d be open to it! We'll explain everything tonight. Meet us here at seven this afternoon.”

“ _No_ ,” Shane says as Bergara simultaneously says, “We’ll be here.”

“No, we won’t,” Shane repeats, his eyes meeting Bergara’s and trying to impart just how fucking stupid this whole idea is.

“Fine.” Bergara rolls his eyes. “ _I’ll_ be here.”

“Even better,” Maya says with another big smile, and Shane feels like a bottomless hole just opened up in his stomach, slowly consuming him from the inside out.

“No,” Shane says again, but Maya and Andrew are standing up, clearly done with the conversation.

“What exactly are you going to do to him?” Shane demands, standing up too.

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Calm down. We won’t hurt him.”

With that, they begin to walk away, leaving Shane standing there, heart racing, breathing unsteadily. He narrows his eyes as he watches them walk away, disappearing as they turn a corner. It’s only then that he turns to look at Bergara, who is looking right back with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Smooth,” Bergara says. “Really handled that like a pro.”

Shane bristles, saying, “And you were ready to sign whatever dotted line they put in front of you.”

“It’s called cooperation. A shocking concept, I know. Were you really not recording?”

“No, I was about to call 911!”

“Fuck, we probably should’ve recorded it. Elizondo is gonna kill me.” Bergara sighs and stands up.

“Are you going to tell him?”

He thinks about it for a second before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? What’s the protocol for this?”

“I don’t know! This hasn’t happened before.” Bergara turns and starts walking back towards Curly’s car.

“Where are you going?” Shane calls after him.

“I _don’t_ know!” Bergara walks a few more steps before stopping and turning around. He gives Shane an annoyed look. “Are you coming or not?”

Despite some grumbling, Shane follows.

***

Shane watches Bergara pace around their motel room. Back and forth, back and forth, going absolutely nowhere – just like their arguments these last couple of hours about what to do.

“You shouldn’t go,” Shane says for what is probably the hundredth time. He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, the same bed that they shared last night. Jesus, how did his life get this fucking weird this fast?

“I’m going.”

“I don’t get why you’re so trusting with these people! I don’t get why we’re even the ones doing this! The FBI should just get a warrant and fucking rescue her!”

Bergara groans in frustration, turning sharply to continue pacing. “Jesus, again with this? We can’t know if she’s there on her own free will or not. The government can’t exactly go around kidnapping people who haven’t really been kidnapped. Elizondo thought it best not to take it to a judge consider her long history with them. And besides, now that we know that she's alive and with them, I think we have some bigger questions that need answers.”

“Oh, yes.” Shane rolls his eyes. “Aliens. Despite _lying_ about not having Johanna with them, I’m sure they’ll be very honest about their friendship with the little green men.”

“ _Again_ , if you don’t like it, no one’s forcing you to go!”

“I’m not letting you go by yourself!”

“Why not? I’ve done plenty of cases without you, you know.”

It stings, and before Shane can stop himself, he says, “Because I care about you, you idiot!”

Bergara freezes, still looking straight ahead of him. Shane internally winces. _Wrong move, wrong move, wrong move_. The silence drags for a short eternity before Bergara finally turns to look at him.

His face is a mortifying combination of incredulous and annoyed as he says, “ _What_?”

Shane feels his own face heat up. “Oh, like it’s so surprising! It’s obvious that for some deranged reason I’m – ”

“This isn’t the time to talk about this!” There’s an edge of hysteria to his voice as he looks at Shane like _Shane_ is the one losing his mind right now.

“Well according to you there is never a good time to talk about this! I know playing mind games has sort of been our thing, but it’s getting pretty fucking confusing. If you – ” Shane swallows down the painful feeling in his throat, determined to get the words out. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. But just tell me.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening,” Bergara mutters to himself, hands going up to pull at his hair. He resumes his pacing.

Shane can feel his heart sink to his stomach, taking that as the answer. Fine. Then it truly had just been Shane getting his own hopes up. Fine. But one last thought gnaws at him, and he has to know. “Is it because there’s someone else?”

Bergara stops his pacing again and fully turns to look at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Whoever you like at the Pentagon. Are you still hung up on him?” The words hurt to say, and Shane can feel his shoulders hitch up defensively. Bergara is staring at him with that same frown on his face, like he can’t believe Shane is bringing this up.

“You know,” Bergara finally says slowly, “for someone so smart, you are so fucking stupid, Madej.”

“Yeah,” Shane says. He gets up and makes his way to the door. “I guess I am.”

***

Shane didn't take his phone. They're in the middle of fucking nowhere. He doesn't know where to go, but he's too proud to go back now.

He got as far as the edge of the motel property before realizing that he was stuck. He's said plenty of times that he doesn't care what happens to his corpse, but dying of wandering in the desert is probably not the best way to go now matter how much he wants to get as far away as possible.

He doesn't know what else to do, so he leans arms crossed against a shady spot of the building, as far away from their room as he can manage. There's a painful lump in his throat and a torn feeling in his chest.

He shouldn't have said that. He should've kept his stupid mouth shut and gotten through this weekend. He could've let distance and time get his life back on track without knowing, _concretely knowing,_ that Bergara didn't... That he doesn't... It's exactly what he had feared. Bergara doesn't want him. Whatever feelings Shane has are one sided, and he had just been fooling himself into thinking that they were going somewhere.

But fine. Fine, if that's the case then Shane is done. Shane won't bother him anymore with his dumb feelings. And if Bergara wants to be the sacrificial lamb to some insane cult, then Shane is done babysitting him.

But just the thought sends a deep sense of fear through him. Bergara will go with them, and who knows what could happen. Shane is mad, but if anything happens to him...

Shane should call the police or Elizondo. He should still try to do _something_. But he can’t go back. Not right now, not while Bergara is still there and Shane would have to see his face and perhaps even sit through him explaining that _obviously_ he could never return Shane’s feelings.

"Shane?"

Shane startles, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he turns and sees Curly. "Curly. Hey," he forces himself to say, and even to his own ears, his voice sounds off and strained.

“What are you doing out here?” Curly looks worried, glancing around him. “Where’s Ryan?”

"He's in the room."

It must be obvious because he gives Shane a pitying look. “I see. Well, come on, I’m going to the store to buy some snacks for everyone. You'll die of heart stroke out here.”

Shane obediently trails after him, walking towards a car Shane doesn’t recognize.

Curly doesn’t ask what happened. Instead he keeps up a steady stream of chatter, talking about the convention members and the specific snack requests. He doesn’t ask for any input from Shane.

The store is close by, and Shane does his part by dutifully pushing a shopping cart behind Curly as he loads it up with drinks and food.

“You’d be amazed how many bags of chips Eugene can eat by himself. If he didn’t work out so much, I would honestly be afraid for his heart health,” Curly says as he tosses four more bags of chips into the cart.

Shane gives Curly a small smile to show that he’s listening, despite the jealous sting that comes from hearing Eugene’s name. Eugene got to date Bergara. They probably held hands and kissed and maybe even more than that. His chest aches painfully at just how much he wants that for himself.

Curly pays for all of the food, and Shane helps him load it into the trunk of the car. They sit in silence for a moment as Curly starts the car but doesn’t put it in drive. Instead he turns to Shane and says, “Need to go somewhere in particular?”

Shane looks down at his lap, embarrassment flooding his stomach. He’d just run out without a plan. He has nowhere to go. It’s still too early to go back to their room; Bergara will probably be there. “No.”

“Okay. Wanna come with me, then?”

Shane nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Come on, we’ve got hungry mouths to feed.”

The group is congregated only a few minutes minutes from the motel near the edge of town. The building looks like it could've been some sort of church at some point, though when they head inside it seems to just function as a rather large hall. There are several fans to keep the air moving. People sit at various tables, chatting away happily. Shane helps Curly refill the large cooler and set up more snacks. It looks more like some sort of frat party than a dork-a-thon, which makes Curly laugh when Shane says it out loud.

“We have a good time,” Curly says. “Sit down. I’ll get you a beer.”

It’s a distraction, at least. The bleeding out feeling is there, but he manages to not focus on it as he sips the beer Curly gave him and listens to some guy named TJ talk about the possible physiology of aliens.

_Bergara would have some opinions about this_ , he thinks at one point, but it just makes him feel pathetic and he gets up to grab another beer.

He stands awkwardly by the cooler, taking a long sip. He should call Elizondo. He should do _something_. He shouldn’t care that Bergara will most certainly hate him for ruining his plan. What does that matter now? God, what is he doing here? Not just here surrounded by supernatural believers, but here in Nevada having his heart thrown in the gutter by the person he hates the most.

Person he hat _ed_ the most.

Or perhaps, maybe, never really truly hated. Just the person that he felt the _most_ toward and didn’t understand. God, this is truly a new level of pathetic. Brent’s gonna laugh when he tells him. Maybe Shane should just head to the airport, book a flight, and go home. Maybe that would be the least complicated way for all of this to end.

The sun is starting to descend towards the horizon. Time's running out.

“Hey, Shane.” It’s Eugene suddenly standing next to him. “How’s it going?”

“Uh,” Shane says and wishes he had a better answer. So he lies, “Good, yeah. Doing good. And you?”

“Yeah, having some fun times. It’s always nice when we can get people together.” He looks around, obviously looking for the missing puzzle piece. Shane feels dread as he starts to ask, “So where’s Ry–”

“Eugene! Hey, um, could you make sure we have enough ice?” Curly says, walking quickly towards them. He shares an intense look with Eugene as he adds, “Can’t ever get enough _ice_ out here.”

Eugene must’ve understood whatever telepathic signal Curly sent him because he quickly says, “Oh, yeah, totally. Um, yeah, I’ll get right to it.” He gives Shane a sympathetic smile before scurrying off.

“Thanks,” Shane tells Curly.

“Don’t mention it. It must be rough.” Curly hesitates for a second before leaning in, voice lowered, and saying, “Look, I know I’m Ryan’s friend, but we can talk if you’re feeling up to it. I’m sure you guys will patch things up.”

Shane can’t stop the short, bitter laugh that crawls out of his throat. “I appreciate that, Curly, but there’s nothing to patch up. Ryan… Ryan’s not interested.”

Curly gives him a confused frown. “Like he’s refusing to work things out?”

“No. No, he – I didn’t mean to, but I – ” Shane takes a deep breath. Tries to gather up the courage to just say it. “I told him how I felt about him, and he didn’t feel the same way back.”

Curly shakes his head. “That can’t be right.”

Shane shrugs. “He still has feelings for that coworker at the Pentagon.” A thought occurs to him, and he has no dignity left to stop from asking, “Do you happen to know who it is? Did he ever tell you?”

“Seriously? Shane, come on, I think it’s pretty obvious.”

Shane snaps, “Well I don’t see it,” and instantly regrets his tone. “I’m sorry, I just – ” He sighs, long and deep, trying to keep himself together. “I just need to know. I know it won’t change anything, but I can't stop thinking about it.”

Curly’s face is kind as he says, “For like, a whole ass year now, I keep hearing about this mystery coworker that he's in love with, but he never thought his feelings were reciprocated. He never specifically said it was someone that also worked at the Pentagon with him. It seemed to me like it was someone he didn't see every day. Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

“Fuck,” Shane says, feeling a stab of hurt as things click into place. “Is it Brent?”

“Huh?”

“They’ve always gotten along, but I never thought – I mean he did keep saying he wished it was Brent here with him, but it didn’t – ”

“ _Shane_! Oh, love-angel-music-baby, _seriously_?” Curly laughs. Not meanly, just like he thinks Shane’s an idiot, which Shane doesn’t really appreciate. “I have no idea who the hell Brent is.”

“Well then who – ”

“It’s _you_ , dummy.”

“...Me?” But that doesn't make sense. Shane frowns, trying to process this information, but he can't quite make it fit.

“ _Yes_! Ryan keeps denying it, but I’ve known him a long time. He’s a bad liar. Plus the way he looks at you is ridiculously sweet, like, disgusting heart eyes sweet.”

“But he doesn't – I _told_ him how I felt. He didn't want to hear it. Every single time I think we're actually getting somewhere, it's like he takes a step back.”

Curly seems thoughtful for a moment, considering Shane's words, and Shane holds his breath, heart hammering in his chest. He wants Curly to be right, he wants Bergara to want him back, but it just doesn't make sense. Curly says, “Look, I don't know exactly, because Ryan has been pretty tight lipped about it. But that in itself is pretty telling because usually he doesn't hold back on any details. I know he's been having a pretty difficult time in D.C.and I know this crush has been difficult for him to handle. Seriously, he made it sound like some Shakespearean tragedy. If you actually return his feelings, he might just be freaking out.”

Shane tries to let it sink in, tries to ignore every instinct in him that is trying to refute this. His mind flies back to every single moment where Shane had thought _maybe_ , every single time Bergara had been distant, and tries desperately to make it all fit together. _A year ago_? Bergara had realized his own feelings that far back? Had he fought with Shane that whole time while secretly hoping and wishing that they'd – _a whole year_?

And Shane is only just now catching up.

“Fuck,” Shane says. “Fuck, I'm so stupid.”

Curly smiles at him and says, “I bet Ryan would love to hear that.”

“Yeah.” Shane nods, a sudden desperate feeling taking over. “I gotta tell him. Fuck, I need to – Curly, can you take me back to the motel, please? Quickly?”

Curly doesn’t hesitate; he starts heading towards the door and says over his shoulder, “I better be best man at the wedding.”

***

Their room is empty. Shane holds his breath as he quickly looks around, eyes double checking every corner, but he’s not here. Shane lets himself lean against the door frame. God, it’s too late, _it’s too late_. His heart thumps painfully in his chest, fear gripping his stomach. He should’ve come back sooner. He shouldn’t have walked out at all. And now...

_No, this can’t be it_ , Shane thinks as he grabs his phone from where he left it on the nightstand. He pulls up Bergara’s number, already walking back outside. He closes the door behind him, taking long strides until he’s in the middle of the parking lot.

It rings once, twice – _please pick up, god, please just pick up –_ and it keeps ringing into his ear despite him hearing Bergara’s voice say, “Madej?”

He turns quickly and sees Bergara standing there near the building. He quickly ends the call and all but runs towards him, unable to stop a relieved grin from taking over his face. “I thought you left,” Shane says once he’s close enough.

“No, I – I was going to go look for you. I mean, I waited for you to come back, but when you didn’t – _where did you go_?”

“I was with Curly.”

Bergara frowns at him, that suspicious one that Shane can now admit he loves. He says, “Okay, what's going on? Why are you smiling like that? Are you drunk or something?”

Shane shakes his head. “No. Well, I did have like one and a half beers, but I’m not drunk. I’m just – ”

Bergara's looking up at him, eyes searching Shane's face like he's trying to figure it out, and the sudden rush of affection Shane feels is almost enough to make his knees weak. Bergara wants him? Bergara feels this too? “I'm just glad you didn't leave yet. We can go together, and whatever happens, I want to help.”

Bergara still doesn’t look like he quite trusts what Shane is saying, but he takes a step closer and says, “Um, okay. Yeah, that – uh, thank you.” He seems to hesitate for a second before adding, “Look, I’m sorry about…earlier. I didn't really mean to say that. It's just that right now is quite possibly the worst time to – ”

“It’s okay,” Shane says, shrugging a shoulder. There's a strange, light feeling in his chest, like he's full of helium, like nothing can quite touch him. It makes him joke, “I’m used to you being a jerk.”

“ _Me_? I'm not the one running off, making _you_ worried sick that something happened. I thought I was about to spend the night calling hospitals and circling the desert, so if anyone is a jerk around here, it's you.”

_But you like me anyway_ , Shane thinks and is just about to say it when a ringing sound interrupts. Bergara pulls out his phone. It’s an alarm. It's twenty minutes til seven.

Bergera’s eyes meet Shane’s. “We should get going.”

***

Andrew only has a few blurry memories of his dad. He was only four when he died. His mother died when he was a year old. His aunt Caroline did her best to raise him for a while, but she was too young and it was too much. It also certainly didn’t help that one day when he was ten he woke up claiming to have been visited by aliens.

He lived in a few different foster homes before stumbling upon one of Jen’s posts. Everything changed after that. He hasn’t talked to his aunt Caroline in nine years.

His letter to her is short, barely taking up the page. A thank you for trying. A sorry for not staying in touch. Assurances that he’s okay and not angry anymore. He doesn’t know her address, so on the large manila envelope he just writes down as many details as he can remember. Maybe it'll never reach her, but at least Andrew tried.

This is something they used to talk about a lot in the early days. Who would get a goodbye letter, should they have them ready, would they even have time to send them. The list of people used to be long. Andrew's pretty sure he's written at least four different versions of this letter before, but it's surreal now to know that this truly is the final one.

Johanna's letter looks to be at least ten pages long, front and back. She seals it into a blank envelope, but Andrew knows exactly who it's for.

He doesn't say anything as she hands it to him, and he adds their envelopes to the pile.

Other people have always complicated things. They did try in the beginning to find like-minded people and share information. There are others out there like them, but those people had families and roots holding them back. In the end, it was just the six of them that believed enough, that were willing to do anything.

When Jen proposed that they stop outside communication, it was honestly a relief. It had been a distraction. Keeping up with a few old friends who didn't understand wasn't exactly at the top of Andrew's priorities anyway. But it had been hard on Maya to call her grandmother every Sunday and get asked to come back home. Steven's foster mom worried about him. Daysha would feel sad when she missed an event in her sister's life. It was easier not to know.

The pile of envelopes is much smaller than it would've been all those years back. Andrew's pretty sure Jen didn't write one at all. Maybe it doesn't even matter. There's no guarantee those two agents will actually deliver them, that their plan will actually work, but at least they tried.

Steven says, “We’re heading out.” He reaches his hand out and Andrew quickly takes it. Steven squeezes it tightly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Andrew nods. “Yeah. Don’t worry.”

Steven gives Johanna one last distrustful look before picking up the envelopes. Maya, Jen, and Daysha wave goodbye as they head out the door. Only Andrew waves back.

Johanna sits on the couch, and now alone together, Andrew goes to sit next to her. They sit in silence for a while, and it surprises him when she says, “It doesn’t feel real, does it? That it’s finally here.”

“No,” he says. “I never really thought the day would come.”

She rubs her thumb over the tattoo on her wrist, the same one Andrew. That they all have. He had been surprised to realize that she’d kept it. Johanna asks, “Did the agents seem trustworthy?”

Andrew shrugs a shoulder. “Maya is convinced that at least the one she rescued is. But…” He hesitates, unsure if he should tell her. But she deserves to know. “They know you’re with us.”

She takes a deep breath, eyes suddenly looking glossy again. “Do you think they told Garrett?”

“I don’t know. We denied it. The last thing we need is some officer bursting in and taking you away.” She nods, but she doesn’t look certain. Andrew reminds her, “We’ve already decided, Johnny. We’re doing this together.”

“I know, I know. We are. It’s just…” In a small, scared voice she admits, “I’m going to miss him.”

“You won’t. You know you won’t.”

Tears start to roll down her cheek. When Andrew puts an arm around her she lets herself fall against his chest. “I’m scared that I will. And there’s no way to come back once we’re gone.”

Andrew squeezes her a little, hoping it comes across as comforting to her and not just to him. The thought of losing her again scares him. Steven kept saying they would wake up to find her gone, and part of him had guiltily thought they might. He says, “But you’ll be with us. We’re your family. We were chosen for this.”

She pulls back and sits up straight, wiping away the tears from her face. “I know, and I don’t want to let you guys down again. I want to be there like we always said, but it feels like no matter what I do I’m losing half of my heart. Maybe if I can just call him to say goodbye, just so that he doesn’t think – ”

“You know that won’t make it easier.”

She shakes her head. “You have Steven. You don’t understand.”

Andrew doesn’t understand. Not entirely. Steven would never want to leave, and Andrew could never go anywhere without them. But his heart aches nonetheless seeing her like this. So he says the only words that come to him and hopes they’re enough: “It’s not too late, Johnny. Just ask yourself, is he worth it?”

***

The temperature has dropped towards a tolerable level, and there are actually a few people taking a stroll in the park when Shane and Bergara arrive. The Five are easy to spot, huddled together at one edge of the small park.

Shane feels himself frown as he and Bergara walk towards them. One, two, three, four… He looks around to double check but no, Andrew isn’t here. His brain instantly goes to _ambush_ , _trap_ , _betrayal,_ but too soon they’re standing in front of them.

Maya gives them a friendly wave. Shane takes a step closer to Bergara, straightening up to his full height. She's the only one that looks glad to see them.

Bergara says, “Uh, hi. Um. Thank you for meeting with us.”

Jen steps forward and says, “Let's just get into it.”

"Not exactly friendly," Shane leans down and whispers to Bergara, but all it gets him is an elbow to the ribs.

"I do have some questions," Bergara says to them. On the drive over, Shane had promised to let him take the lead, and Shane is a little proud of the way he's holding himself, an authoritative set to his shoulders.

Jen sighs, a hand coming up to ruffle her short hair. "Fine, what is it?"

"What exactly is the agreement we're making here?"

Jen looks around at the people walking by. She lowers her voice as she says, "It's nothing bad. We have some envelopes that we want you to make sure get delivered. With people like you following us, we figure anything we send might get intercepted anyway, so this is just us hoping that this way you'll just make sure it gets to the right people. In exchange, we'll let you do some...stargazing tonight."

“And by stargazing,” Bergara says, “you mean see another ship?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know they'll be there?”

“Call it a funny feeling.” Jen smirks, clearly amused by some joke that they're not getting, and Shane bites his tongue, remembering his promise. “Look, we're not exchanging the passcode to some missiles or anything. You can take our word or not.”

Bergara turns to Shane, eyes meeting, requesting reassurance, and he waits for Shane to give a tiny nod before saying, “Alright. We're in.”

“Great. We'll give you directions and the envelopes. We don't know the exact time, but just sit tight and you should be able to see it.”

“Okay,” Bergara says. “I have a few more questions, though. Could we meet up tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Jen says distractedly, turning around to get a small stack of envelopes from Steven.

Maya says, “What kind of questions?”

“Questions about the group. How you guys came together, what the purpose of it is. Things like that. It won't be published online or anything like that, if that's what you're worried about.”

Daysha smiles at Bergara, like she finds him amusing or cute, and Shane has to once again resist the urge to put himself between them and Bergara. Daysha asks, “Why do you do it? What's your purpose in chasing after this?”

Bergara looks stunned only for two seconds, like he hadn't expected to be asked a question at all, before replying earnestly, “I’m trying to find the truth.”

“Us too.”

The look on Bergara's face is slightly dreamy, and Shane thinks he might finally get it. All those people at the convention, Eugene, Curly – they're all several steps below this. Shane finally gets the fascination, the admiration for The Five's zeal. In this sea of believers, they are the ones that are close to walking on water.

Shane doesn't like it. It sits uncomfortably in his stomach, the fear that Bergara will go along with anything these people say. The fear that Shane might not be able to stop him. And it pushes him to ask, “Hey, aren't you missing someone? Where's Andrew?”

Steven scoffs loudly. “What, are you gonna accuse us of kidnapping him too?”

“No, no,” Bergara says appeasingly. “We're not doing that. Though, I mean, that is a pretty good question. Is he not going with you guys?”

Steven says, “He is. He's fine.”

“Hey,” Shane says, suddenly curious and taking his chance, “don't get mad but why did you punch that guy in Kentucky?”

Steven’s eyes widen before he looks embarrassed. “He was being a homophobic asshole.”

Well, Shane can't argue with that. He nods approvingly and says, “Right on.”

Bergara gives him a look like he should behave himself, but one corner of his mouth betrays amusement. He turns back to The Five and says, “Alright. So we'll go there tonight. Will you guys also be there?”

“We will,” Maya says. “Just in a different spot.”

Shane frowns. “You gonna run up to them, or something?”

Maya laughs and even Daysha cracks a smile. But Jen says, “We don't have all night to chat. Please take these. We ask that you don't open them. And here are the directions for you to drive to.”

Bergara takes the small stack with the piece of paper on top, holding it carefully like it's delicate. “And what exactly is in these?”

Daysha says, “Don't worry. It's just regular paper.”

There's a loud beep behind them. Shane turns and sees Andrew waving out of the window of their blue van. Steven quickly hurries towards them, not looking back. He quickly gets into the passenger seat, head instantly bowing towards Andrew as he says something to him.

Jen and Daysha walk over as well, Daysha turning only to wave goodbye to them. But Maya stops in front of Bergara and says, “I like you, Ryan. I feel like we could’ve been good friends.”

“We can be,” Bergara says, smiling brightly at her. “We can hang out tomorrow.”

She throws her arms around him, giving him a quick hug – quick enough that it's over before Shane can react. “I'd like that,” she says and gives him one last fond look before running to catch up.

Shane frowns as he watches them drive off. “For the record, I don't like this.”

“You said you’d be supportive,” Bergara says.

“I am being supportive, but I supportively do not like this.”

“Too late. Come on, let's go.”

***

The road ahead looks endless. The light poles along the road have become fewer and fewer as they head deeper into the desert. Despite the bright, scattered stars, the darkness feels like it's pressing in on them.

Shane has a bad feeling. He'd voice his concern if Bergara didn't look so determined. All he can really do, though, is read the instructions on the piece of paper and hope they're not heading into some sort of trap.

“We should’ve gotten a camera,” Bergara says absentmindedly, more to himself than anything.

“We have our phones.”

“Yeah, I guess that will have to do. I kept telling Elizondo that we should all have a camera at the ready every time we go out on the field, but we never had enough money in the budget.” He slows the car to a stop, pulling over to the side of the road. “I think we're here. I don’t see them anywhere, though.”

Shane doesn’t want to say it. He's pretty sure that there's little to no chance these people are showing up. They're probably on their way out of the state right now, giggling about how they suckered them into promising a favor. But Shane doesn't want to have this fight right now, so he asks carefully instead,

“Do you think they’ll actually show?”

Bergara sighs, a tired sound, as he deflates. “I don't know. I have no idea what to expect. Do you think they will?”

Shane considers lying for just a second, but Bergara's looking at him with big eyes, like he really cares what Shane's answer is. He goes with the truth, and shakes his head no.”

Bergara leans back against the seat. “I guess we wait a little bit. Have a little faith.”

“Or,” Shane says, holding up the envelopes, “maybe there’s a clue in here.”

“We said we wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but who would know? We can still deliver them.”

“This feels an awful lot like being tempted by the devil.”

“You’ve met his satanic majesty?”

Bergara laughs, that surprised one that sends a thrill to Shane’s stomach. He composes himself quickly, shooting Shane a look like he’s on thin ice, but Shane can tell he doesn’t mean it. In a strict sounding voice, he says, “I promised. And promises should mean something.”

“Well I didn’t, so how about if I just open one?”

Bergara looks from the envelope to Shane’s face, back and forth, like he’s trying very hard to decide. “...Why do you think we should?” he asks eventually, and Shane knows that means he just needs a little convincing.

“Because knowledge is power. And what if their entire secret plan is in here? Might give us some clue as to what’s going on.”

Bergara sighs. “Fine, you do it.”

“Always pushing me to do the dirty work,” Shane says just loud enough to make sure Bergara can hear him. He opens up the first envelope, skims it. It seems to be from Steven to some woman named Maria. _I never forgot all of the things you taught me... I'm so grateful that you came into my life when you did..._ _I'm sorry if this news causes you any pain, but I didn't want you to worry about me anymore..._ Shane frowns, his brain trying to make sense of it. “Huh,” he says.

“What?”

“It’s…” A sinking feeling in his stomach. He looks up and sees Bergara’s concerned face. “He’s saying goodbye.”

Bergara snatches the letter from his hand, eyes moving quickly across the page. His brow furrows as he reads out loud, “I know my disappearance might seem frightening, but I promise you I’m in a better place? _What_? What does this mean?”

“I think we both know what this sounds like, but – ”

“No!”

“– you won’t like it.” Bergara looks distraught so Shane doesn't ask for permission, just states, “Second opinion,” and tears opens another envelope. There are several pages in this one, and Shane quickly pulls them out. Shane's eyes widen as he sees that it's addressed to Garrett Werner. “Uh, so, I'm pretty sure this is from Johanna,” he says, passing it over to Bergara.

“Fuck,” Bergara says, grabbing the papers. He scans it quickly, frantically flipping from page to page, mouth open. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says again before putting a hand up to his forehead. “Jesus, they really could be deranged psychopaths. We gotta – we should – _shit_ , who do we even call first?”

Shane quickly raises his hands, _no clue either over here_ , and shakes his head. “I don’t know. The police? The FBI? Look, whatever we do, we need to do it fast, because they’re clearly planning something and it could get ugly real fast.”

“You’re right,” Bergara says, grabbing his phone. He grumbles under his breath, “God, I hate when you’re right.”

Shane laughs despite himself, that surge of affection rushing through him even in a moment like this. _I love you_ , he thinks helplessly, stomach flipping as he recognizes the feeling in his chest. His eyes take in Bergara’s profile, mostly illuminated by his phone, and the feeling grows, flowering up from his chest to his throat until it’s at the tip of his tongue, until he almost can’t stop himself from saying it, from _admitting_ that probably for longer than he’s realized –

And then Bergara’s eyes snap up to some distant point in the sky. He squints up, his whole body leaning forward. “Do you see that?”

Shane tears his eyes away from him to look. He sees a waning moon and a smattering of stars. “See what?”

“There, you see that?” He points towards the right. “Please tell me you fucking see that!”

Shane frowns, eyes scanning and scanning until – _what the fuck?_

There’s a light in the sky moving in an almost zig-zag formation. It’s so fast that Shane isn’t quite sure if it’s actually moving or just popping up in a different place. “What is that?”

Bergara puts the car back in drive and says, “UFO.”


	6. Chapter 6

_This is insane_.

Bergara is speeding down the deserted street, hands gripping the wheel tightly. Shane should tell him to slow down, to just stop for a second and _think_. This could be some sort of military activity, some sort of – some kind of – it just _can’t be –_

_This is insane_.

Shane's eyes don’t understand what they’re seeing, and so he sits dumbly in the passenger seat, mouth slightly open as he tries not to lose sight of whatever the fuck it is they’re zooming towards.

Over the years, Bergara has shown him many military videos that Shane had agreed were strange and that they’d labeled inconclusive after many hours of arguing. But a grainy video that could’ve been altered, faked, or misleading is completely different than _this_ , seeing it right in front of him with his own eyes.

He only lets himself steal a glance at Bergara before he quickly looks back to the light, afraid to lose sight of it. But that glance was enough to see the determined look on Bergara’s face, the crazed look in his eyes that Shane would normally taunt.

The light has stopped zig-zagging back and forth. It’s just hovering in place how, almost blending in with the stars, _almost_ , except for how it’s bigger and brighter, and Shane can’t deny it was very much _not_ acting like a star earlier.

Shane blinks, and it's gone. He looks around wildly to find it, but there's nothing there.

“Fuck!” Bergara says, one hand banging on the steering wheel uselessly. “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck_!”

The car _speeds up_ , making Shane instinctively brace himself as he finds his voice again and says, “ _Ryan_! Slow down! We’re not gonna fucking find anything if we’re both dead!”

“We have to catch up!”

“Catch up to what? It's _gone_! You better – ”

Bergara breaks, the car screeching in complaint as it skids to a stop. He’s breathing heavily, eyes wide, and Shane would yell at him except that his heart is in his throat, pulse racing. “ _Look_ ,” Bergara says. “Think that’s The Five?”

Two tiny headlights are visible in the distance on the left side of the road, motionless. There’s not enough light to properly see what the car looks like. Shane frowns, a sense of foreboding clawing at his stomach. “Maybe we should go,” he says, despite knowing Bergara will hear none of it.

Sure enough: “We can’t!”

“Well then maybe we should fucking call for backup, since we don’t have a gun or even a pocket knife or _any_ way to protect ourselves!”

“Okay, okay, we’ll call, and meanwhile take out your phone. We should’ve – _fuck_ , we should’ve been filming this whole time. Jesus, I can’t believe that didn’t occur to me. Start filming just in case.”

Shane takes out his phone and does as he’s told, pointing the video right towards the distant headlights. Bergara brings his phone up to his ear, and Shane can distantly hear it ring. Shane asks, “Who are you calling?”

“FBI. We might be able to get someone out here if – _yes, hello_ , this is Agent Bergara from AATIP. Please patch me through to Agent Matthews. It’s urgent.”

Shane holds his breath as they wait, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. Whatever they saw earlier, it couldn’t have been – and if that is their van, are they inside waiting to attack or – _god_ , please don’t let it be the other option. Shane is not prepared for that, and he knows Bergara isn’t either.

Faintly, he hears someone pick up on the other end, hears a tired voice say, “This is Matthews… Hello?... Agent Bergara?”

But the phone drops from Bergara’s hand as they both watch a bright green-blue light appear ahead of them near the headlights. Shane blinks rapidly, mouth open, trying to get his brain to come back online.

Emanating the beam of light is a goddamn spaceship.

It produces no sound that Shane can pick up as it hovers, a silent, giant disk in the sky just like Mr. Jones described. A flying saucer out of the 1960’s. Belatedly, he realizes the phone isn’t even pointing at the fucking UFO in front of them. His hand feels heavy as he lifts it to try and capture whatever the hell it is they’re seeing.

“Oh my god,” Bergara says, as they watch a female figure slowly descend from the center of the beam. Her feet softly touch the ground. She stands for a moment before collapsing to her knees. Bergara gasps.

Shane feels frozen as the green-blue light begins to fade, leaving the figure covered in shadows. He can’t think properly, can’t even _begin_ to comprehend how any of this is happening, what type of technology this could possibly be. The ship hovers, large and menacing, and Shane feels like he can’t breath.

The ship begins to vibrate almost imperceptibly, a white light beginning form around it. The white light burns brighter and brighter. Shane feels goose bumps form on his arms as a shiver runs through him, and then the ship is gone. He has to blink several times to get his eyes to readjust to the dark around them, to stop burning with the image of the ship.

He doesn’t realize he’s breathing in labored gulps until he feels a hand on his arm, making him jump. Bergara doesn’t pull away, just squeezes his arm tighter as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Shanes takes in Bergara’s face, illuminated by the soft light from the dashboard, such a familiar sight compared to whatever the fuck he just saw. Shane swallows, trying to stop the terrified feeling that is clawing up his throat, and nods.

Bergara pulls back and picks up his phone as it starts ringing. “Fuck,” he says before answering. “Hi Matthews, uh, yeah, there’s been a situation, but um. I think I have to call you back about it. Brief you later.” He ends the call without waiting for an answer.

Shane feels weird and detached as Bergara drives forward. The car stops across from the van, where the woman is still on her knees, now fully illuminated by their headlights. She lifts her head, eyes wide, as Bergara opens the door to step out.

It’s Johanna Miles.

Shane fumbles with his seatbelt, his hands not quite working, before following Bergara. He’s already a few steps away from the car when he realizes he left his phone back there. He stares at his empty hands, unable to decide if he should go back for it. None of this makes any _sense._

“Johanna?” Bergara says in a gentle voice, startling Shane out of his thoughts. Bergara’s standing only a few steps away from her now. “Are you okay?”

She looks from him to Shane and back. She slowly nods. “Yes. I’m –” Her voice breaks, a painful sound, before she forces air into her lungs. “I chose to stay.” The words have barely left her mouth as a sob escapes her. Her body curls in, hands going over her face as she weeps into them.

Bergara and Shane share lost, horror filled looks. Shane takes a few steps closer to Bergara. God, he has no idea what to fucking do, but some instinct tells him that if he’s close to him, it’ll be okay. He feels helpless and useless as Bergara looks around, clearly formulating a plan.

Bergara crouches down to be at her level. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe, and I – we’re here to help.”

The crying doesn’t stop.

He looks back at Shane, who can’t do anything other than stands there. Bergara frowns, looking concerned. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Shane lies and attempts a smile that instantly feels fake and forced.

Bergara makes a face like he isn’t buying it, but he turns back to Johanna. “Did they hurt you? Do you need medical assistance?”

She doesn’t answer, sobs still shaking her body.

“Johanna? I'm going to get you in our car, okay? We're just gonna take you somewhere safe.”

She gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Bergara seems lost for a second, arms hovering awkwardly over her before he manages to hoist her to her feet, throwing one of her arms around his neck so that she can lean on him. He gives Shane another concerned look and nods towards the car. “Come on,” he says.

Shane watches as Bergara walks towards their car and struggles to open the backseat door. He carefully shift Johanna inside. It doesn’t feel real. Shane blinks and turns to look back at The Five’s blue van. The backseat door is open, he realizes, and a part of his brain worries that the van is going to get stolen with the keys probably still in the ignition.

He laughs, a sudden, unexpected cackle as he realizes how stupid it is to think about that right now. What a stupidly normal thought that has absolutely no place now that… not after…

“ _Shane_!” Bergara’s voice calls, making him turn back sharply.

_I’m about to wake up any second_ , he thinks as he walks over to the car and gets in.

“Okay. Think, think, _think,_ ” Bergara murmurs to himself, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Uh, we need to get back to civilization. Call Elizondo. Maybe take her to a hospital. Yes, okay, here,” Bergara says, unlocking and then handing Shane his cellphone. “Call Elizondo and tell him what happened. I’ll start heading back.”

Shane takes the phone and follows orders as Bergara does a u-turn and starts heading back. Shane scrolls down Bergara’s contacts towards the E’s. Right above Elizondo’s name, however, is a contact named DICKHEAD. Shane opens that one instead without thinking, curiosity winning out.

“Did you seriously save my number under Dickhead?”

Bergara laughs, a short, surprised sound. Caught yet unrepentant. “I did. We can fight about that later. We have more important things going on right now.”

“Oh you bet we’re fighting about this later,” Shane says as he goes back to Elizondo’s number and hits call.

It takes several rings before a gruff voice says, “This better be good, Agent Bergara.”

“Uh, yeah, hi. This is Doctor Madej, actually.” Shane glances at the backseat, double checking that this is actually happening. And yup, there Johanna is, leaning against the door, hands covering her face. “Um, we just saw a UFO drop Johanna Miles off. She’s in our car now. Bergara’s driving us to the hospital because we’re not sure if she’s okay. I mean, she doesn’t seem to be bleeding or anything, but uh, who really knows with alien abductions, right?.”

Bergara frowns and gives him a look that says, _what is wrong with you_? – to which Shane just shrugs. He doubts there would have been a better way to break the news.

The long silence on the other end of the phone makes him uneasy – even _more_ uneasy than he already feels. Shane is starting to worry that maybe Elizondo won’t say anything at all when he finally says, “This better not be some sort of prank, Madej.”

“Oh, I very much promise you it’s not.”

“Send me the approximate coordinates of where you found her. I will send you directions for a base. They have equipment for medical tests and no one will ask questions. Head there directly, do not stop anywhere else, is that understood?”

“Y-yeah, uh, yes, sir.”

“Very well. Out,” he says and hangs up.

“He’s a very intense man,” Shane says as he lowers the phone from his ear and looks down to see a new text message pop up. “Uh, we’re supposed to go to some sort of base. It’s safer, he says.”

“Okay.” Bergara sighs. “It’s not like this night could get any weirder. Is that okay with you, Johanna?”

It takes her a couple of seconds to answer, having to first sniffle and take in gulps of air. Then in a small and shaky voice, says, “I just want to see Garrett.”

“We can try to call him once we get there, okay? I’m sure he’ll be very happy to hear you’re safe.”

That just brings a whole new batch of sobs. Bergara winces.

“Nice going,” Shane says as he sends Elizondo their last location. That weird urge to laugh is back, and Shane can tell his face has twisted itself into a weird smile.

Bergara says, “Shut up,” though there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re clearly having some sort of existential crisis right now so I’m not even going to say it.”

“Say what?”

“I’m just gonna let it simmer. I’ll gloat about being right later.”

Shane does laugh then. “Okay,” he says, before cackling again.

The GPS says they’re forty-two minutes away from the base. Shane wonders why he hasn’t woken up yet.

***

“Where’s Agent Bergara?” he asks the nurse after she takes the thermometer out of his mouth. This is the third time his temperature has been taken, and no one is fucking telling him anything.

As soon as they arrived, they took Johanna off for tests. One second Bergara had been standing next to Shane, then the next Bergara was talking to a nurse, pointing back at Shane. The nurse ushered Shane to a small, prison-like room where they made him change into a too-short hospital gown and keep fucking popping in to check his vitals.

“Just rest up and try to relax,” she says, and Shane has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at yet another non-answer. “If you begin to feel any pain or discomfort, let us know. It’s very common for the body to ache after the adrenaline wears off.”

Relax? His whole body feels tense as he lies in the rather uncomfortable bed that takes up the majority of the room. It’s a ridiculous suggestion. How can he possibly relax when he just saw a goddamn spaceship?

He pulls the thin, scratchy blanket up to his chin and tries not to dwell too much on the confusing mush of emotions he’s feelings. These last twenty-four hours have been absolutely fucking insane, and now Bergara _isn’t here_. He’s in love with Ryan Bergara, it might be mutual, _and_ _goddamn aliens are real_. How can Shane possibly relax? The whole fucking world is upside down, and no one else seems to be freaking out!

They took his phone, and this room has no windows or clocks. He thinks he might’ve fallen asleep just out of sheer boredom, but it’s hard to tell. Two more nurses pop in and out, both equally unhelpful in telling him where Bergara is, though the last one does tell him that it’s now almost three in the morning.

_The witching hour_ , Shane thinks hazily, a memory from long ago flooding his mind. Bergara’s wide eyes full of genuine concern, then the way he glared when Shane had laughed. _I love him_ , he thinks, and it feels like that’s the only thing he’s sure about. Bergara's frowny pout when Shane makes fun of him. The way he laughs at Shane’s stupid jokes, a sound which Shane is quickly becoming addicted to. The way Shane can’t imagine ever caring about anyone else this much.

_Where is he?_ Shane can't help but be worried. Aliens are real. They're real and anything can fucking happen at any goddamn moment, because apparently the universe does not work like Shane thought it did. If Bergara went out looking for them again, Shane should be there. Shane should always be there. Not because Bergara can't protect himself – it's pretty obvious now that Shane has been three steps behind this whole fucking time – but because Shane just can't stand the idea of something happening to him and Shane not being there to help.

The next time the door opens, he expects another nurse wielding a thermometer. He’s startled when instead Bergara walks in, now wearing his glasses, though he’s still in the same outfit as before. He gives Shane a small smile and asks, “Still freaking out?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot to wrap your head around.” He holds up the suitcase in his hand, _Shane’s_ suitcase. “I went back to the motel, told Curly we were leaving, and got our stuff. Come on, you can’t sleep with your contacts in. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”

Shane tries not to feel too self conscious as Bergara stands next to him in the small bathroom and watches him take off his contacts and put on his clear-framed glasses. Watches him brush his teeth. Shane's hospital gown doesn't even reach his knees. Bergara doesn’t try to be discreet as he leans against the wall, arms crossed, eyes never leaving him.

Shane feels tired and clumsy, and so pathetically pleased to have Bergara here, looking at him.

Shane has spent the last two years of his life arguing with this man. Two years of petty fights, of trying to disprove every theory, of thinking he’s insane. How could Shane have been so wrong? God, he had been wrong about so many, many things.

“I like your dress,” Bergara says with a teasing smile.

Shane laughs, shoving his toothbrush back into his toiletry bag. “Thanks. Shows off my legs.”

“Done?” Bergara asks, and all Shane can do is nod and follow as Bergara heads back to the room.

Shane’s shoulders feel achy as he slips back into bed. He's so tired. Now he can finally sleep. It’s not a big bed, but it'll hold both of them. When he looks back, however, Bergara is still standing by the door. Hesitating.

Shane’s heart sinks.

Bergara says, “I should… They gave me a room just down the hall.”

“Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to him. Shane nods, hoping his disappointment isn’t too obvious.

“Elizondo is flying out here. Um, Johanna said that she’s willing to give a statement, but she wants it to be with us.”

“Us? As in me too?”

“Yeah,” Bergara says. “I-I mean, if you want to, that is.”

“No, yeah, I want to.”

“Good.” The smile Bergara gives him looks relieved. As if there was any universe where Shane would’ve said no.

And maybe that’s what makes him brave enough to say, “Stay with me.”

Bergara freezes. “I…” He clears his throat, looking down. Shane braces himself, can practically feel the devastating _no_ forming. But then Bergara says softly, “Okay,” and walks towards the bed.

“Are you really gonna sleep in dress pants?” Shane teases to hide his relief.

Bergara playfully frowns at him. “I was. For modesty’s sake.”

“Hey, I showed you my legs tonight. It’s only fair.”

Bergara grumbles, “Figures you’re only trying to get into my pants,” as he unbuckles his belt. Shane laughs and tries to ignore the swoop in his stomach as Bergara steps out of his pants, revealing gray boxer briefs, and pulls back the covers. “You’re not talking me into going shirtless. I’m pretty sure a nurse is gonna barge in here at some point.”

"You don't want her to get a glimpse of the gun show?"

"Shut up," he laughs as he climbs in.

Shane feels himself smile as Bergara settles in next to him. He's comfortingly warm, and Shane practically melts onto the mattress, soothed by his presence. Shane turns to face him. His eyelids droop with exhaustion, but he resists to get a few more glances at Bergara's face this close. “Glad you’re here,” he admits. “Hate that you were right about aliens, but. Glad anyway.”

Bergara smiles at him. “Go to sleep. Need you in tip-top shape so I can gloat later.”

“Okay,” Shane says, moving in closer til his forehead is resting on Bergara’s shoulder. “I’ll allow it.”

***

Shane’s eyes are barely opened before a nurse is shoving a thermometer into his mouth. He feels a flash of panic as he looks beside him, prematurely embarrassed at having been caught in bed, but the spot next to him is empty.

The nurse harshly tells him, “Mouth closed, please,” when he tries to open his mouth to ask where Bergara is – though if memory serves him right, answering questions isn’t that big around here.

Shane feels… He feels...

The nurse takes the thermometer out as it beeps. Shane asks, “Is it normal?”

“Pretty normal,” she says, making a note on the chart she's carrying.

Huh. Then whatever the hell it is that Shane is feeling, it's not from a fever or some sort of alien disease. All he can identify is dread at what it all means, a dash of excitement at the unknown, some sort of floating feeling, and disappointment that Bergara isn't here. The rest is an unidentifiable mush.

He is ordered to get dressed and report to an office where Elizondo and two other officers are waiting for him. They’ve seen the footage on his phone. They ask him to explain step by step what happened that night. Elizondo listens, stern faced, as Shane tries his best to find a balance between honesty and making sure he's not admitting that he and Bergara were perhaps outside of the appropriate boundaries.

“Anything else you’d like to add to the record?” one of the other officers asks him.

“Just one thing.” Shane takes a deep breath and does his best to keep his voice leveled as he says, “Agent Bergara was right, and he should be commended for his courage. I did not believe him throughout this investigation and constantly tried to prove him wrong. He not only dealt with me being a complete jerk to him, but also an entire department that viewed him as a liability and constantly undermined him. I think we all owe him an apology.”

Elizondo clears his throat. “Very well. Thank you, Dr. Madej. If that is all, we will conclude this statement now.”

Shane waits for them to turn off the audio recorder before asking, “Uh, speaking of Agent Bergara – where is he?”

Elizondo says offhandedly, “Try the cafeteria. I think he said something about food.”

Shane heads straight there, but Bergara's not there.

Shane pushes down the disquiet feeling in his chest and grabs a tray full of food that he’s not that sure he can eat. He picks at it as he tells himself that Bergara is probably swamped right now. He probably wanted to stay with Shane this morning, had probably been disappointed himself when he got called away. It’s not pathetic to hope that, right?

Shane can be patient.

He pushes his tray away, mostly uneaten, as fretful thoughts prickles away at him: what if Shane is fooling himself? This thing between them – what if Bergara doesn't want it? What if Curly was wrong?Bergara is still going to L.A. Last night changed a lot of things, but it didn't change that. Shane doesn’t know what comes next, and he feels slightly terrified at all of the options.

“Hey,” Bergara’s voice suddenly says from behind him, making Shane jump. He looks just as tired as Shane feels, but even so, Shane smiles at seeing him, heart leaping at the sight.

“Hey.”

“Garrett is flying out here this afternoon.” He takes the seat in front of Shane, placing his coffee cup on the table. “We’re scheduled to talk to Johanna in around thirty minutes. She doesn’t know he’s flying out yet, so don’t mention it.”

“Lots of secrecy. I bet she’d want to know.”

Bergara snorts. It sounds bitter. “Secrets upon secrets. Apparently we’ve got to keep most of what happened pretty quiet. There’s some talk about us signing things – which you haven’t done, have you?”

Shane shakes his head. “Not that I can remember.”

“Good. I’ll see what I can get sorted out.” He leans back on his chair, stretching big and yawning.

Shane swallows hard, trying to tamper down the sudden rush of affection he feels. He wants to reach out; he wants to _touch._ He wants to pathetically beg Bergara to stay in D.C. and to stay with him. Jesus, how can it be that in only twenty-four hours he's lost any semblance of control over his emotions?

Bergara says, “Oh, we’ve got midnight flights back to DC, by the way.”

Shane tears his eyes away, looking down, and tries his best to sound normal as he says, “What do I tell Brent?”

“Honestly? It doesn't really matter what you tell him. Everyone will just think you’re insane. It’s the worst. Congratulations on your membership.”

“Jesus, arguing with people like me will be quite a trip.”

“Oh it's the worst.”

When Shane looks up to see him, he's got a soft smile on his lips, and it gives Shane hope.

***

**Excerpt from Johanna Dorothy Miles’s recorded statement**

Present in the room: Johanna Dorothy Miles, Agent Ryan Steven Bergara, and Dr. Shane Alexander Madej

Bergara: Hello.

Miles: Hi.

Bergara: If it’s alright with you, we will begin with some basic questions about the group.

Miles: Okay.

Bergara: Why don’t we start at the beginning. How did the group form?

Miles: When we were around eleven years old or so, we were all abducted. That sounds really scary, but… There’s a this ethereal feeling you get when you’re in their presence. I don’t know what it is or how to explain it, really. You’re just happy, and you feel safe. I didn’t have the best home life, and when I woke up the next day, I remember feeling...feeling sad that I had been put back. No one noticed that I was gone the whole night. I tried to tell adults what happened, but everyone told me that I had just been dreaming. Then years passed, and I started to think that maybe I had made it up, that I really had been dreaming.

Bergara: Do you remember what happened that night, when you were with them?

Miles: It’s hard to explain. They don’t communicate with words, and when you’re with them… You’re physically there, but it’s like you’re operating outside of yourself. Your mind doesn't work the same. It’s as if everything is abstract. I can’t tell you what anything looks like, exactly, or sounds like. All I can remember is just how I felt and… I _knew_ they weren’t going to hurt me. I knew that they were there to learn about us.

Madej: So it was like some sort of hive mind they were able to connect you to?

Miles: [chuckles] Sort of. I mean, I was still me, and I retained my individuality. But it was almost like...like opening my eyes for the first time. Like I could see beyond myself and understand a larger purpose. It’s hard to explain in words.

Bergara: Are you still linked to them?

Miles: No. Or at least, not while they’re far away. If we arrived somewhere where they had just been, it was like...like a hum in your head. Or like a light. We believed that we had been chosen as children for a reason. Maybe not every human has the ability to connect with them. But we were left...open to it.

Bergara: Is that why the group formed?

Miles: Yeah, we were all trying to find answers. [chuckles] I did what pretty much everyone does. I went looking online. So much of it was just hoaxes or a bunch of nonsense, but then I came across a post by Jen. Her story was exactly the same as mine. She had already been in contact with Maya. Daysha and I reached out to her about that post around the same time. Then we found Steven, who had already found Andrew. There were a few others whose stories matched up, but the six of us were the only ones that… I’m sorry.”

Bergara: It’s alright. Take your time.

Madej: Can we get some tissues in here, please? ...Thank you.

Miles: Thank you. Sorry. It’s just that we didn’t really have anyone else, and all of us wished that we could’ve stayed aboard. We decided to try to find them and try to stay with them. God, we were basically a bunch of kids that just needed _something_ to give their life meaning. And it did, I mean… We became a family. We were even pretty happy, as weird and as unconventional as our lives were. We had a collective goal and purpose.

Bergara: Was Jen Ruggirello the leader of the group? Sometimes it seemed as if that was her role.

Miles: In a way… I guess you could say so, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t like we were blindly following her or like she was some sort of dictator. We made most decisions as a group and never really saw each other as anything but equals. It was more like a burden, probably. She was always a pretty fair and kind person, so whenever we had disagreements or a decision needed to be settled, she was the one that shouldered that.

Bergara: Did something happen that made you leave?

Miles: For a long time it was...thrilling to always be one step behind them. To show up to a town, feel that hum. But eventually I felt tired of all the moving. Andrew did too. It started to feel like we were never going to catch up. And then I met Garrett. We’d always get these little jobs to get us to the next place, and I was working at this restaurant where he was a waiter. [sniffles] I fell for him pretty much instantly. Every time I saw him, it was like my heart was going to burst from excitement. By that point we had pretty much cut everyone else out of our lives. When it was time for us to leave… God, it was the worst decision I ever had to make. I panicked and convinced myself there was no other way. I left my family behind. [sniffles] I wish I had handled it better, but I didn’t.

Madej: You never told Garrett about the group? What you lived through?

Miles: I was too scared. I mean, I know it sounds completely insane to people who have never had an encounter. How do you tell someone you’re starting a relationship with that you spent years running around, trying to get abducted by aliens again? I couldn’t. I was scared that he’d just think I was crazy or wouldn’t believe me, and that it would ruin us. Plus, Garrett is the biggest skeptic, always going on about logic and never able to trust anything outside of our human understanding of science.

Bergara: [chuckles] I know someone like that. Drives me crazy.

Madej: Okay, I’m right here.

Miles: [chuckles] It’s maddening. But… even so I loved him so much that it didn’t matter. I’d never been in love before, and I was terrified of losing him. Maybe if I had just been braver, I could’ve kept both him and my family. But I guess it’s true that love makes you do crazy things. I would’ve followed Garrett anywhere. My family tried to come patch things up, but I totally freaked out on them and pushed them away again. It was easier, I guess, than admitting I’d hurt them.

Bergara: So what happened? That night in the woods when you disappeared?

Miles: Garrett and I went with some friends to this cabin. And that night, I could feel that they were there. It was so strong, so much stronger than before. It was like it was calling to me. I couldn’t not go. They were waiting for me. I walked into the woods and saw them, and they took me aboard. Once I was there with them, I was able to share that we had been looking for them and that for so long we had wanted to stay with them. I didn't realize how long I was gone. They dropped me off in Nevada, and I knew when and where they were coming back for us. So I called them. I told them what happened… [sniffles] Sorry. Every time I think I’m done crying…

Madej: You can take your time.

Bergara: Yeah. We understand this is hard for you.

Miles: [sniffles] I… I mean, after feeling it again, after getting that glimpse into the beyond… I wanted to go with them. I mean, here it was, what we had been working towards for so long. I really did want us to go together. But Garrett… I just couldn’t leave him behind. And in the end I guess I chose not to. My family’s with them now, but I’m still here.

Madej: What do you mean by ‘you guess’ you chose not to? You don’t remember making the decision?

Miles: My heart was so split that I don’t think I could’ve ever made the right choice here on Earth. It was one thing to leave everyone behind knowing that they were still out there. That I could call and talk to them if anything happened. But the thought of them all being gone… It terrified me. But once we were beamed aboard, when they understood me – _fully_ understood… I think I knew that they were going to be okay. And I wanted to stay.

Bergara: And they’re in a safe place now? Your family?

Miles: I believe they are. Not that I don’t have human doubts, of course. It scares me to know that they’re not coming back and that the reality of it might be different from what we expected. But in my core I know that they’re where they wanted to be. Where they were meant to be. And I know they’re happy.

***

It's late at night when Shane goes to collect his things. Johanna's interview lasted hours, and Shane's brain feels a bit like slush from all of the new information. He's ready to go home.

Shane's making his way down the hall, suitcase in hand, when he spots Garrett. He looks frantic as he walks down the hall, escorted by an officer. He catches sight of Shane and gives him a distracted smile and wave, though his attention is quickly pulled away as a voice calls out, "Garrett?"

Johanna comes running around the corner a second later, throwing herself into his arms. He catches her.

Shane watches them hold each other, and it tugs painfully at his heart. He's happy for them. They get to go home together, holding hands tightly. They get to be sure that whatever the future holds for them, they'll face it as one.

Shane wants that. He feels the idea solidify in his mind, can feel the ache of it settle into place. It's clear now. It's simple. He knows exactly what he wants. Shane forces himself to look away and continue on.

They're put on a jet back to D.C. Elizondo is staying behind, apparently taking over the case. Bergara says, "Apparently now it's a top priority." He rolls his eyes before slouching further down in his seat and mumbling, "Whatever. We got to the truth, and that's all that matters. I just want to get home and sleep."

They’re alone in the small cabin of the jet. Bergara could’ve sat in any of the empty seats, but he sat next to Shane.

"Sure, life continues on as normal for you. I, on the other hand, have to now rearrange my whole belief system," Shane says teasingly – mostly to hide the anxiety he's carrying in his stomach. Because this is it. Once they land, he’s going to lose his shot and as much as it terrifies him to imagine Bergara shooting him down, as much as it will hurt to have to drag his bleeding heart home, Shane is willing to do it.

Aliens are real. He’s in love with Ryan Bergara. Nothing seems impossible anymore.

Bergara says brightly, “Speaking about that,” and grins at Shane. “Go ahead, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say that I was right all along. And that you were wrong. And that you should’ve listened to me and believed me and that I’m not crazy.”

Shane pretends to resist, leaning away. He shakes his head. “I have always maintained that I do believe in aliens.”

“Oh my god, _bullshit_! You said they were probably little germs – ”

“Which they still could be.”

“– and you insisted they never came to Earth.”

“Well, agree to disagree.”

“No, _no_ , I want to hear you say it.”

“How petty,” Shane says before sighing dramatically. “I will admit...that on the subject of aliens – because ghosts are a whole other area – you, Ryan Steven Bergara, were correct. And I was wrong.”

Bergara’s grin widens, and Shane’s heart burns warm with it. The admission is worth his pride if it gets him this. Bergara says, “Feels good. Feels very healing. I should’ve recorded it for whenever I feel sad.”

Shane laughs. “Well maybe I can be persuaded to say it again. For special occasions.”

Bergara looks away, smile dimming almost imperceptibly. He looks down at his lap, and Shane feels a sense of desperation come over him. No, Bergara can’t pull back now. Not when Shane is just about to – “I’d like that,” Bergara says. “Maybe we can stay in touch.”

Shane blinks, his brain rushing through a million replies, jumbling it all up into an incomprehensible mess. His heart starts racing, sensing danger, and Shane isn’t sure what to say to fix this. To not mess it up.

“Or – I mean,” Bergara says quickly, “if you want, that is.”

Shane says carefully, “I think we should talk.”

Bergara shifts uncomfortably in his seat, says hesitantly, “Okay.”

“Yesterday when I was with Curly, he said that I was the person you have a crush on.” When Bergara’s face remains frozen, not giving anything away, Shane prods, “Am I?”

Several unbearable seconds tick by, Bergara not saying anything, not moving. Doubt creeps into Shane’s lungs, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

Then Bergara sighs, heavy. “Yeah, of course, _obviously_. I’ve… For a while now, yes.”

Shane smiles, relief flooding his system. But Bergara remains with that blank look on his face, and it makes Shane confess, “I like you too. I more than like you.”

Bergara looks downright unhappy now, and it makes Shane frown. No, this isn’t how it was supposed to go. They’re saying _good_ things. But then Bergara says, “I wish we… If we had figured it out earlier, then maybe we could’ve made it work somehow.”

“We could figure it out now.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy.”

“Why not?” Shane asks, not caring that he sounds pathetic and desperate.

Bergara sighs again. “Look, I – I’ve thought about this a lot. After we – when we had sex, I realized that this was too much for me, alright? I can’t just casually hook up, and I can’t just casually date you from halfway across the country. I’m too – I like you too much, okay? And I don’t want to have my heart broken.”

“I wouldn’t,” Shane promises instantly, unthinking. It’s a big promise to make, but he can feel it’s validity in his bones.

“You wouldn’t meant to.” Bergara shakes his head, mind already made up. “We’ve spent all of our time doing nothing but fighting and yelling at each other. There’s not a chance in hell we would manage to make it work.”

Shane lets his words sink in. Bergara has that stubborn set to his shoulders, convinced he’s right, and maybe a smarter, wiser man would give up but Shane has never been smart when it comes to Bergara. So he says, “We would make it work,” with the blind confidence of a true believer. When Bergara opens his mouth to argue, Shane says quickly, “Yes, we’d fight. _Of course_ we’ll keep fighting. It’s us. But this isn’t casual for me. I don’t think it ever has been.”

Bergara looks stunned for a second, like he hadn’t been expecting that. Then he says softly, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. If you’d told me this before – ” he laughs bitterly “– I guess I probably would’ve thought you were pulling some sort of mean trick on me, but if I had _known_ that you felt like this… We just had bad timing.”

“No,” Shane says, unable to accept this answer. “Bergara – _Ryan_ , I’m saying that I am all in. I’m saying that if you give us a chance, just a small chance, I’ll do anything to make it work. I don’t want to go to work if there’s no chance of you dragging me out of the lab to listen to insane theories. I don’t want to know that you’re across the country, feeling the same way I feel about you, and us not being together. I’m saying that I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I’ll pack everything up and follow you to L.A. if you let me.”

Bergara stares at him. Shane’s heart races wildly, hands almost shaking with it, but he doesn’t flinch.

“That’s insane,” Bergara says, but it’s not a no.

“It is,” Shane agrees.

“What about your job?”

Shane shrugs. “Seems I could stand to learn a bit more about the real limitations of several scientific fields. You don’t happen to need a second opinion at your new job, do you? I’ve got references.”

“I can make a few calls.” Bergara grins. He laughs wildly. He says, “This is crazy.”

“Is that a yes?”

Bergara shakes his head in disbelief. He closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s trying to get himself together. When he looks at Shane again, there’s something soft in his eyes, a look that Shane has never seen before, not like this. Not at full force. Bergara says, “Alright. I’ll let you stalk me to L.A.”

Shane grins back. His entire body feels like it’s buzzing with excitement, with energy that he’s never felt before. Not for anyone.

When he pulls Bergara in for a kiss, it feels like a promise.

***

“So you’re really doing this,” Brent says as he drives Shane to the airport.

“Yup,” Shane says, unable to stop himself from grinning.

“Hey, I’m really happy for you, man, but like… I still can’t wrap my head around it. And not just because I’m sad that you’re leaving, and that I have to get used to a whole new coworker. I just can’t believe that you’re gonna give up everything here.”

“What can I say. _Love doth bewitch and strangely change us_ , right?”

“I guess. You’re gonna invite me out to visit you guys, right?”

“Sure! We can do something fun. Bergara keeps talking about some theme park called Knott's Berry Farm. They got good jams or something. That might be cool.”

Brent chuckles. “Great. Can’t wait to see what kind of weird, freaky couple you guys make.”

“I think we make a perfectly cute and normal couple.”

“Not sure normal couples spend years shit talking each other at every opportunity.”

“We got all of our fighting out of the way in the beginning, so now it’s all smooth sailing. Nothing but ‘Kokomo’ by the Beach Boys from here on out.”

Brent laughs and doesn’t ask any further questions, moving on instead to a lament about having to bully Carl on his own.

When they get to the airport, Brent helps him with his luggage and gives him a big hug goodbye. “Give my love to your better half,” Brent says teasingly, and Shane laughs.

“Will do,” he promises.

The flight is long and uncomfortable, but it does little to dampen the excitement in his stomach. He can’t really put it into words, can’t give a rational explanation to Brent or his boss or his parents. This isn’t logical or practical – and it’s definitely not well thought out. He knows that to everyone else it just looks like he lost his mind and is throwing his career in the trash to chase after some guy that not too long ago he couldn’t stand.

AATIP has officially stated that the Johanna Miles Incident must be kept confidential. The video has been erased from his phone, and they're under strict orders not to talk about it with civilians. But Shane thinks that even if he did get to tell them that part of the story, they still wouldn't understand. They can't know how it felt to gasp awake from another nightmare about UFOs on deserted roads. How it felt to look over and see Bergara sleeping next to him. The relief, the joy, the wonderment.

Shane is sure.

It had been hard when Bergara headed out west first. Shane had woken up every day since then missing him, had sighed pitifully each night at how empty the bed felt with him just in it. It's been over two months now, and Shane had been counting down the days until his own big move.

And today is the day.

Shane spots him instantly. Bergara's standing shifting his weight from one foot to the other restlessly. He looks nervous, eyes scanning the crowd but not yet finding Shane.

Shane’s heart beams at just seeing him.

“Hey,” Shane says as he gets closer, and he laughs as Bergara startles. “Looking for me?”

Bergara grins and looks relieved before leaning up to kiss Shane almost frantically. Shane quickly wraps his arms around Bergara's waist, close to bursting with joy at having him back in his arms. God, he has missed him so much.

Bergara pulls back only a few inches to say softly, “Hi.”

“Hi. Thought I'd chickened out?”

“Thought maybe you’d come to your senses.”

“No chance of that,” Shane says, before pulling him back in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> "Love doth bewitch and strangely change us." - Robert Burton.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented such very lovely things. It means the world, truly. Another thank you to The X-Files, Jon Lovett, and Mitski. "Francis Forever" and "Pink in the Night" were basically my conduit for getting in touch with Ryan's feelings throughout this. And Tiia, I hope you know that you're the biggest inspiration of them all.
> 
> One last reminder to check out the art for the last chapter because [it's so so freaking cool!](https://crude-mood.tumblr.com/post/186989731968/these-boys-are-so-hard-to-draw-wtf-but-i-decided)
> 
> You can find me at [miraclesofpaul.tumblr.com](https://miraclesofpaul.tumblr.com/)


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